


The Coming of a New Age

by TookMeASecond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bottom Sam, M/M, Mpreg, Slow Build, Top Dean, dowry for marriage, unrelated wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-10-11 17:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10470432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TookMeASecond/pseuds/TookMeASecond
Summary: This is a story of Sam and Dean.  Two people who were suddenly having to deal with a situation that neither one every dreamt possible.  The world had changed, and not for the better.  Women could no longer get pregnant, but some men could.  Because of that the government, trying to keep mankind alive, started to arrange marriages with the object of having kids being born.  Sam could have kids, but did he want that?  Dean could father kids, but did he want the government telling him who he should marry?  Sam and Dean meet and what happens next surprises everyone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovesammy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lovesammy).



> Thank you to my prompter and wonderful beta lovesammy!! She has been awesome to bounce ideas off of and help out with corrections. Also, summery, all her! Yay!
> 
> Rating May Change  
> Additional Tags May Be Added

~*~1990~*~

“Schools across the nation are being cancelled due to unexplained illness. Citizens are urged to remain in their homes and avoid contact with anyone exhibiting symptoms of the virus. Hospitals are requesting that unless you are in serious need of medical attention you stay away. They are filling up fast and running out of room. Patients in need of immediate medical attention are the only one’s being admitted.

“Anyone who is experiencing early symptoms of the virus need to be drinking plenty of fluids and resting. Bed rest is suggested for all ages. We will be updating you with any new information. City officials are asking the public to remain calm and support each other. This could get worse before it gets better.”

John clicked off the TV, cutting the reporter off before she said anything more damaging.

“Well, that was reassuring. What is going on here?” Mary asked, more to herself, not really expecting an answer. John sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. He kissed the side of her head.

“They aren’t doing a good job of not scaring people are they? Should blow over. Always does.” Mary absentmindedly picked at a tear forming on the thigh of John’s jeans as she watched her son playing on the floor. He was only 3 years old. So far he hadn’t been showing symptoms of being sick, but her heart ached at just the thought. They hadn’t left the house in two days, not wanting to risk getting in contact with anyone who was sick.

There was concern about work and bills, but if the news was anything to go buy there wouldn’t be anyone at the utility companies to call about payment. The Winchesters had a comfortable cushion of savings for just-in-case scenarios so they weren’t too worried. But Mary could see this going south real fast if this strange virus kept getting worse.

John rose from the couch to get a beer from the fridge. He sighed at the thought of having to go out and get more. Maybe they’d just break into the good stuff. He popped the top and leaned his back against the counter, losing himself in thoughts of the apocalypse. They were prepared for such things. He had stacks of water and plenty of canned goods stashed away. But it wasn’t so much the supplies that worried him as much as the mental stability of the citizens. People got desperate fairly easily. And desperate people were dangerous.

Dean wobbled into the kitchen holding one of the toy classic cars his father loved that he played with. He crouched on the floor and ran the wheels over the tile, making little engine sounds. John huffed a quiet laugh and smiled at the toddler. What a world this little one would be growing up in.

 

~*~2000~*~

The virus did not blow over. Half the nation was in disrepair, and the rest of the world didn’t look any better. A quarter of the population had already died. There were parts of the city that didn’t have water or electricity, haven’t for weeks. Dead spots. It was almost like a scene from Monty Python but without the comedy, people bringing out loved ones who had died to put on trucks to be taken away. Funerals were a thing of the past. There were just too many bodies.

John and Mary were lucky enough to live in a neighborhood with power. Half of their neighbors were still around. Some simply moved on, in search of better conditions. Some died. They helped each other, watched each other's back. There was a military base setup not too far from them so they were given supplies every two weeks. Most manufacturing plants were shut down these days, there wasn’t a lot of production going on.

Authorities still had no idea what the virus was. Some people would get sick and get better. Others would get sick and die. People of all ages and ethnic backgrounds. Old people, young people, didn’t matter. There was no pattern. And that was the most frightening part.

Mary was on her hands and knees in the backyard, tending to the garden she grew to help supply fresh foods to her community. They were lucky to live in such a mild climate, not everyone could grow food. A majority of the people who lived up north were gone, and only some by way of the virus. They just couldn’t survive when left to their own devices.

She sat up straight and arched her back, stretching as joints popped. Huffing a sigh and resting her hands on her thighs for a moment she scanned the yard. They had taken the fence down between their yard and their neighbors to allow for more garden room. Mary and the neighbor worked together to provide the neighborhood with a few different types of fruits and vegetables. It was way better than canned anything, and fresh meat was scarce.

Dean was thirteen now and way more grown up than she thought he should be. He and John had gone to the base to pick up some supplies. The production of gas was way down and civilians didn’t have open access to it so most people walked or rode bikes these days. The boys were due back soon and she was hoping they would be bringing some meat. Plenty of farmers in the area had animals, but they didn’t want to run the risk of depleting their herds so the meat was carefully harvested and distributed.

Borders everywhere had been sealed. Airlines no longer ran. You pretty much only had what was created around you. It was refreshing in a way, life was simpler now. But it was still new, even after 10 years and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be used to it.

The sound of the screen door out front slamming shut shook her from her thoughts and she smiled. John pushed the back screen door open and grinned at her.

“Get in here, woman! I brought you something to cook!” She grinned at the proud look on his face and wiped her palms on her jeans.

“Sure, send Dean out to finish weeding, it’s almost done.” John nodded and waited at the door for her, holding it open and stealing a kiss as she passed by.

~*~2010~*~

Dean grunted as he fought with the wrench under the hood of a no-name truck. The simple oil change had turned to anything but when he found something wrong with the timing belt. The client asked how fast he could fix it. So he was fixing it as fast as he could.

“You need help, boy?” Bobby was only half serious. Dean was the best damn mechanic at his shop, and likely the state. The boy chuckled at his uncle and chose to ignore him beyond that.

The virus had suddenly disappeared. They were in June and there hadn’t been a death linked to the virus in 6 months, almost exactly. It was very strange. The country was beginning to pull itself back together. Half the population had been lost. The borders were still up between countries but the states within the confines were working together a little more. In the aftermath Bobby had done well for himself. Mechanics and handymen were in high demand and paid very well.

Dean removed himself from the innards of the truck's engine and stood, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead to catch the sweat before it trickled into his eyes. He looked up at the high sun, it was freaking hot today and the shop was overloaded. He figured with something as quick as an oil change he could do it in the lot. Should have known nothing was simple for him.

John and Mary Winchester were in the ground for almost a year now. Car accident. How stupid right? A deadly virus takes over the world, his parents were 6 months away from surviving it only to be t-boned by some asshat who fell asleep at the wheel. Things were just not that simple for him.

~*~

That night Bobby and Dean were eating their dinner in Bobby’s kitchen. They were doing rather well for themselves. But still enjoyed Singer Salvage as their home. Most of their payment was in trade; food, goods, luxuries. More and more they were dealing with cash but the monetary value of paper was still at an all time low. The small TV on the counter next to the fridge was droning on on low volume. The guys ate in silence.

“Reports are coming in of the first pregnancies of the year.” Dean and Bobby looked up with their eyebrows together. A year ago this would not have been news, but since the start of the year there had been no babies born, at all. Something everyone took notice of. Both men stared at the reporter on the TV intently.

“The origin of said pregnancies are shocking, to say in the least. We go live now to Melinda Ortega at County General.” The picture on the screen shifted from inside a cozy looking studio to a woman outside the hospital entrance.

“Doctors are stunned by the results of a few patients inside right now. They all seem to be pregnant, about the same time through their pregnancy. The blood work shows healthy babies of an appropriate weight for the time frame. The shocking part? All three of the patients in this hospital expecting babies are men.”

“The fuck?” Bobby and Dean spoke together.

 

~*~2012~*~

Two years had given the government plenty of time to run tests and set up a registry. The original concern was that if women could no longer bare children the human race would die out. Then with the first case of a pregnant male there was hope for re-population after the virus wiped out half. Every man was tested, every juvenile turned 18 was tested. Not all men could create life. There was a select genetic code that caused the biology of some men to produce eggs. Suddenly half the human population that was left couldn’t reproduce.

It made those who could very popular, some were well off while others were simply comfortable. The tests the registry performed on each viable candidate outlined the strength of his genes. The stronger the genetic material the more money the government sent the families. The men on the registry who were not interested in a husband or family were able to make a good living giving babies to families who could not have them otherwise. The program had strict regulations in place to keep the babies and the donor safe. Men who wanted families could search the registry for a potential husband, this was encouraged for all men, but not mandatory. For some individuals their tests showed strong genes that would produce strong offspring. These people were matched with the other men on the registry, and even if they weren't interested the government sent suitors.

~*~

“Look, Bobby, I don't need to buy a husband. If I want to settle down I'll find a partner, man or woman, on my own.” Bobby shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“You aren't buying anyone. It's a gift. A show of good faith. A promise to the family that you're going to take care of their boy. They want to know their son or brother isn't going to be a broodmare for some horny whack job.” He pretty much had his speech memorized. Dean just crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head dejectedly. He leaned back on the counter and crossed one ankle over the other. His ‘giving in’ stance. “‘Sides, the boys already on the way.”

“You know, there was once a day you'd rather pull off your own fingernails then deal with the government. And stop calling him ‘kid’ and ‘boy’. You're making me feel like a creep.” Bobby shrugged with a smirk.

“I want grandkids.” Dean scoffed, pushing off the counter and crossing the kitchen to the fridge.

“Right. What does his family want to let me screw him, uh?” Bobby's eyes narrowed.

“Negotiations begin if you both decide it's what you want. And you'd better not speak like that in front of the kid’s chaperone. They'll haul him out of here faster than you can get that car of yours to 60. Probably put a note in your sleeve.”

“Aw, don't break my heart,” Dean muttered moving from the kitchen to the porch with his beer.

Truth was Dean did want a family. He just wasn't interested in the process. He didn't need an algorithm to tell him who he was compatible with. Or the government to approve the union. Why did he have to have strong genes? There was more pressure for him to take a partner and create as many babies as they could with his partner’s health in mind. He felt like a pawn.

He sipped his beer absentmindedly while watching the sun set over the 7 acre scrapyard. Even with their wealth they hadn't changed their lives much. The yard was the same, as well as the house and Dean's Impala. The shop was upgraded, but mostly because of the volume of clients. The house was upgraded a bit as well, mostly just fixing or replacing appliances. Most of the money or barter items they received were saved. They lived a modest and comfortable life.

The kid, great now Dean was calling him that too, would arrive in the next couple days. Friday evening. He and his government employed chaperone would be staying in Dean's cabin, a bit behind the house. Dean would be moving back in with Bobby for the duration of the visit. There was no set time frame. They would take as long as they needed to determine if the men were compatible. Sam, his name was, was 18. Hardly a kid these days and only 5 years younger than Dean. But 18 felt like such a long time ago.

He sighed when he tipped the bottle to his lips and nothing came out. Whatever. It was only Wednesday and he had to work tomorrow. He didn't bother saying night to Bobby, just mosied on home to try and sleep. It was going to be a long couple days. And who knew how much longer until he'd have his life back.

~*~

Friday rolled around fairly quickly. Dean showed up at the shop to find Benny already under his first car. “What are you doing here, man? You have Fridays off.” Benny rolled himself out but stayed on the floor.

“We didn't give you notice ‘cause we knew you'd fight us the whole way.” His drawl somehow made whatever he said sexy, though for Dean that's where the sexual attraction ended.

“We? Fight about what?” Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he looked around the shop. Just then Jo made her way out of the office. Benny took his chance with Dean distracted and moved back to the vehicle's undercarriage.

“Hey, buddy. Ready to go?” Jo asked sweetly resting an elbow on Dean's shoulder. He huffed in annoyance and stepped away from her.

“For what? What the hell is going on?”

“You have the day off. We're going to be cleaning your house for your guest. Bobby said you could use a woman’s touch.” She wrapped an arm in his and guided him out of the shop toward his cabin. The door was open, a sign Bobby was already there.

“Do you count for that?” Dean asked slightly irritated. Jo pursed her lips and slapped him playfully.

“Of course I do! More than you anyway. Bobby brought cleaning supplies. We’re both going to help you get your place in order to impress the suitor.” They made their way into the cabin, Bobby had a box full of different sprays and rags sitting next to the door. He’d pulled all the curtains away from the windows, bathing the living space in bright sunlight.

“Bobby! You broke into my house?” Dean tried to sound angry, but the old man didn’t give an inch.

“We need to get this place ready for Sam and his chaperone. A good first impression will go a long way in dowry negotiations.” He said bending to sweep dust, dirt, and God knows what into the dustpan to throw out. “Now go to your room and strip the bed, we’ve gotta put on new sheets and straighten the place up.” Dean drug a hand down his face.

“This money crap again.” Bobby straightened with a scowl.

“Listen, boy, it’s not all money. We may not give them any. But we’ve got plenty to offer the family as reassurance.” Dean just shook his head, still not liking the idea. “It’s not the first time in history this is a thing, ya know. In fact, before this whole virus catastrophe it was still common in the Middle East. Arranged marriages have been going on for eons. Only then the groom’s family really was buying the bride. Be grateful you have a say in the whole thing.”

“I guess it’s not so bad when you put it that way. It’s not like I’ll be forcing him into anything.” Bobby gave a tight lipped smile and nodded his head.

“Yeah, think about it as a gift for your new in-laws.” Dean returned the tight lipped smile.

The day flowed on easily enough. Dean put on some music to drown out the voice in his head trying to convince him this was a horrible idea. The three got the cabin together in a few hours. Jo headed home while Dean and Bobby made their way to Bobby’s kitchen to prepare dinner. Sam should be arriving in a couple hours. They’d all sit down for their first meal together.

~*~

Dean was sitting on the front porch with a beer, Bobby having kicked him out. The older man insisting that Dean greet their new guests. To be honest Winchester was starting to feel a bit nervous. As much as he had fought Bobby on this he was a little eager for it to work out. It'd save him time of looking for someone on his own with the added benefit of government assistance if they had kids.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of a low engine, a high pitched squeal, and crunching gravel. He rose from his chair after setting the amber bottle on the porch and watched the dark sedan roll up the driveway. The windows were tinted so dark he couldn't even see the outline of anyone inside. The vehicle pulled up next to Baby and the engine cut off.

~*~

Sam sat quietly in his seat as his chaperone turned the car off and collected her bag and papers. His heart was hammering in his chest. After spending ten hours in the car he figured he'd be chomping at the bit to stretch his legs. He gazed out the rear passenger window at the man standing on the porch. The man who hadn't requested a meeting. He knew he was invading privacy, but he had little choice. His father had made himself quite clear. Sam needed to find a rich husband, or else. He was obligated to meet whoever the government sent him to.

His chaperone exited the driver door and hauled the door behind hers open. “We're here, sweetheart.” At least she had been kind. It was a nice reprieve from the house where he was nothing more than a cash cow. He nodded and slid off the seat then followed her around the front of the vehicle. He looked up from watching his feet to meet the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.

His suitor was definitely easy on the eyes. Shorter than him, but not by much, still tall. Short cropped blonde hair, broad shoulders. He could see bunches of muscles under a fitted black AC/DC shirt. He was standing with a shoulder leaning on a porch beam, one black boot folded over the other. As Sam crossed the dusty drive the man, Dean if he remembered correctly, pushed off and met him at the bottom of the steps.

“Sam? I'm Dean Winchester. Welcome to my home,” Dean said holding out a hand. Sam nodded and took it, shaking firmly just like his dad taught him. The men stared at each other for a moment before the chaperone cleared her throat. Their hands dropped and Dean looked over Sam's shoulder to her.

“Charlie Bradbury,” she said shuffling her papers into the elbow of one arm while extending her hand. Dean took it and nodded firmly at her. “Now, there are a few rules to go over and some guidelines that have been established by the agency to help this little meet and greet go smooth as possible. Would you like to show us somewhere more comfortable?”

“Well, if it's alright I'd like to feed you first. Bobby and I made dinner. We can talk after then give you a tour?” Dean felt weird speaking to her like he was some yuppy but he really didn't want to ruin this right off the bat. The man they sent was rather good looking.

“Very well, show us the way.” Dean nodded and turned to open the front door, ushering his guests in first. The trio entered the house to the smells of meat, potatoes and broccoli. Sam's mouth watered.

“Bobby,” Dean said as the older man appeared in the kitchen doorway, “this is Sam and Charlie.” Bobby plastered on a smile and shook both their hands.

“Welcome, glad you're finally here. Let's eat!”

Sam had been fairly quiet during dinner, opting to let Charlie do most of his talking. Which was mostly small talk anyway.

“Charlie, why don't we let the boys take a walk while I clean up in here?” Bobby rose from the table taking his and her plate to the sink. Charlie wiped her mouth on her napkin before replying.

“Yes, that's one of the things we must discuss. If you don't mind I'd like to go over some things before we turn in for the night. It's been a long day and we could use some sleep. Is there somewhere more comfortable to chat?” Her tone was friendly enough but her words left little room for argument. Dean and Bobby shared a look.

“Of course, Dean, show them to the library and set everyone up. I'll be in in one moment.” Dean rose from his chair with his own plate, grabbing Sam's as he passed.

“Sure, follow me.” He deposited the dishes into the sink and led the pair out of the kitchen. Charlie settled on the couch to set her papers on the coffee table, Sam next to her. “Can I offer you a drink?” Charlie narrowed her eyes slightly, seeming to have an internal debate.

“I'm not sure if I should, but I could go for a beer. Sam?” She looked sideways at her charge and rose an eyebrow. Sam cleared his throat and looked shyly from Charlie to Dean then back.

“Uh, could I have a beer?” Charlie smirked a little. She seemed to be a little more lax than her manner of speaking would imply.

“I don't see why not. As long as we don't make it a habit, huh?” Sam nodded eagerly, which made Dean smile. He retrieved a few beers from the fridge and went back to the living room with Bobby in toe. They all settled in with their drinks, Dean noticing how tenderly Sam sipped his. Charlie had a couple books and some loose papers all laid out.

“Now, as you can imagine there are some do’s and don’t’s. The registry and accompanying agency has some rules that we feel are important for both safety and understanding of the process. It's less daunting than it sounds.”

One of the books on the table was about the change in male anatomy and the method of conception. Both Sam and Dean looked a little uncomfortable when the topic was brought up so Charlie slid the book to the edge of the table and told them they didn’t have to look at it until they were ready to talk about a family. They weren’t even sure they were going to be together yet. This seemed to calm Dean a bit, but Sam still hid behind his curtain of hair and picked at the label on the beer bottle.

“So the process isn’t all that complicated. There’s courting, which is what you’ll start doing tomorrow. I’ll give you guys time to get to know each other, but you’ll be under constant supervision. This is to protect both of you. If you decide it’s something you’d like to try then the negotiations begin between families. There’s a gift presented to Sam’s family in exchange for a marital blessing. If the negotiations are accepted you will have in-laws, can plan your own wedding, and the agency will always be available to answer questions or offer any type of support you may need.

“Those are the basics, there’s way more in the details. But this is kinda a learn as you go. Are there any questions now?” Dean and Bobby shook their heads. Sam took the last sip of his beer and set the empty amber bottle on the table, also saying no. Charlie smiled and clapped her hands excitedly. “Excellent! It’s been a long day, and I think it’s best if Sam and I are shown to our rooms so we can get some sleep. Tomorrow is another big day.”

~*~

The next morning Bobby woke before the sun, as per usual. However, he was not expecting the smell of breakfast. Before even getting out of bed he smelled coffee, bacon and something sweet.

“What are you doing up, boy?” Bobby made his way to the counter next to the fridge and fixed himself a cup, then appraised the abundance of food on the counter. Bacon, eggs, different sliced cheeses. There was a plate with croissants and english muffins, and another with french toast and pancakes. Everything actually looked pretty good even though Bobby had never known Dean to make breakfast.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Dean’s answer was simple and punctuated by another sip of his coffee. Bobby glanced around the kitchen again.

“You cook?” The Winchester shot his uncle an incredulous look.

“Bobby, do I cook breakfast?” Bobby narrowed his eyes and gave his own version of the bitch-face. Then raised a hand to wave at the counter top.

“Where’d the food come from, smart ass?”

“Charlie.” Bobby huffed a laugh and sipped his coffee.

“Where’d she get it all? We might have bacon…” Bobby’s words fell off as he looked around at his closed cabinets and closed fridge, as if he could see the food through the doors.

“We’re out of bacon. She went to the store about an hour ago, went into my kitchen, cooked a shit ton of food, and brought it over.” Dean downed the last few sips of his coffee in one gulp and rose to pour another from the half full pot on the counter. “She left about ten minutes ago, said she was gonna wake Sam.” Bobby nodded slightly then squinted at the door.

“Is she gonna be cookin’ like this the whole time?” Dean’s shoulders sagged in mock exasperation.

“I don’t know, Bobby, we didn’t really talk about her cooking schedule. You can ask her when she gets back, uh?” Dean said earning himself another bitch-face.

Charlie showed up with Sam another ten minutes later, both washed and dressed for the day. She had explained that she, Sam, and Dean would take turns cooking. It was a skill that was important to show off to a potential husband, and to decide if it were something needing to be worked on. Dean looked at her skeptically, Sam kept his eyes on the table. Both Bobby and Charlie assumed that to mean neither of them cooked. The older man could tell it weighed on Charlie, but she did her best to steel her nerves and keep a smile on her face. She seemed to be trying harder than either of the boys.

Sam was a continuously odd mix of shy and overeager to please. One minute he was hiding behind his curtain of hair, trying to avoid eye contact; the next he’d be trying to be interested in whatever Dean was talking about.

At one point in the afternoon the four of them went on a walk around the salvage yard, moreso to give their visitors a tour so they wouldn’t get lost than to show anything off. To fill awkward silence Dean had been pointing out the cars he hoped to fix up to sell and Sam had done a poor job of looking like he knew what Dean was talking about. This only made the older boy grin a little at the show of enthusiasm, causing Sam to blush and duck behind his hair. At one point Dean bumped his shoulder as they walked, not even hard, but causing Sam to stumble as he wasn’t expecting it. Sam shot him a dirty look, but Charlie was amused.

Their conversations seemed forced most of the time, Sam relaxing was few and far between. Dean tried to get him out of this shell, but sometimes the harder he pushed the more Sam pulled away. A few times even retreating to Dean’s cabin to be alone. Dean would sigh in frustration and wipe a hand over his face as he stood on Bobby’s front porch. He found it odd he was trying this hard for a relationship he swore he didn’t want.

Truth was Sam was not what he had expected.

Back when Dean was 18 Bobby had received a letter a few weeks after Dean’s genetic testing. It spoke of how high the results were and immediately offered a few viable candidates for Dean to meet with. The look on the young man’s face had been a mix of disgust and anger. He was a few weeks past his birthday and was being propositioned to find a husband and start a family. Neither of those things he was interested in at the moment, perhaps ever.

Bobby didn’t seem too upset Dean wasn’t interested right away, but a couple years later he had started prodding his nephew again. After all, since finding out Dean was a candidate he’d been thinking more and more about grandchildren.

Dean thought that maybe Sam’s hesitance was because of their chaperone. Charlie was at Sam’s side 24/7. Wherever Sam went Charlie kept him in her line of sight. She had mentioned the first evening when going over the guidelines that Sam would be under her constant supervision. Dean was just unaware, at the time, that constant really meant all of the time.

The suitor had spent a week at Singer Salvage and Dean still felt like he had no idea who the kid was. He was starting to think that maybe Sam didn’t want to be there as much as Dean didn’t want him at first. But after seeing him, getting a feel for him, Dean genuinely wanted to get to know him. Perhaps they should just call it quits before it went too far. The government would, no doubt, send another suitor.

Until one night everything would turn on its axes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love guys!

Lying awake in his bed he couldn’t even keep his eyes closed. Complete opposite to those nights sitting on his own front porch where he couldn’t keep them from drooping. It was like each of his lids were opposite magnets, repelling each other. Perhaps it was because this wasn’t really his bed, wasn’t his house. Maybe it was the talk he had overheard Charlie having with Sam; which was mostly Charlie telling him they’d be leaving in a couple days.

As much as he had been wondering if that wasn’t the best it still caught him off guard. He thought they’d have more time, even though he hadn’t thought it’d do much good. Sam seemed so reserved most of the time. Then, every now and then, Dean would get a glimpse of who the boy really was under all the shy. His eyes would sparkle, his dimples showing.

With a heavy sigh Dean hauled himself out of bed and went to the fridge for a beer, then propped himself on the front steps, watching the stars.

He was so deep in his own thoughts with his head tilted back resting on the porch post he didn’t hear the footsteps closing in.

“You’re up late.” Dean nearly jumped to his feet, almost dropping the beer, as he spun to see Sam standing a few feet away. His shoulders were slightly hunched against the mild chill of the evening, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Dean gave a slightly embarrassed half smile.

“Look who’s talking.” Sam stood in front of him for a few moments, looking unsure, until Dean finally patted the porch step next to him. The younger man looked grateful for direction and settled on the step. The silence that followed wasn’t as awkward as any previous. Dean surmised it was probably because it was the first time they were truly alone.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Dean asked taking a swig of his beer. He rested his elbows on his knees, holding the neck of the bottle in both hands loosely, watching Sam from the corner of his eye. Sam tilted his head to the side with a sly smile on his lips.

“Naw, I sleep walk. And talk.” Dean sat still for a moment, not sure what to do, until Sam huffed a laugh and looked down at his feet.

“Oh shit, that was a joke. You’re being snarky. Never knew you had it in you, Sammy.” Another gulp and the beer was gone. Dean tossed the bottle to the side and rubbed his hands over his knees. Sam chuckled lightly and the sound reverberated through Dean’s chest.

“I do that sometimes,” Sam said smiling shyly over at Dean. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, and it faded quickly as he looked away to gaze over the shadows of the salvage yard. Dean could feel the apprehension coming off the younger man in waves.

“I wasn’t sure, you know? You haven’t spoken much to me since you’ve been here.” The boy took a deep breath, almost as if he were psyching himself up.

“Yeah, uh, I’m just not sure how to talk to you.” He spoke without looking at Dean. His eyes shifted down to his fidgeting fingers. Dean’s brow furrowed together in confusion before he leaned in to bump Sam’s shoulder with his own.

“What do you mean? You just talk. Say what’s on your mind. You can ask me anything, you know. Worst case we don’t get along and you can choose someone else.” Sam huffed a humorless laugh at that and shook his head slightly.

“Yeah. I was kinda hoping this would work out. I just- I can’t really get a read on you.” He was hoping Dean couldn’t see his flushed face in the moonlight. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was fighting to keep his voice even. It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped.

“Hey, kid. What’s got you so spooked, uh? You don’t have to impress me. I wouldn’t want you to stay unless it’s something you wanted,” he said reaching a tentative hand up to squeeze Sam’s shoulder. Another humorless laugh.

“Yeah, what I want.”

“What does that mean?” Sam chanced a glance sideways to look Dean in the eyes. This could be it. What did he have to lose? Charlie wanted to leave soon anyways. He had been trying to talk himself into baring his soul for a while now, not sure if Dean would take pity on him or toss him out.

“I, uh… My family-,” Sam sighed in frustration at himself. Dean sat next to him, patiently waiting for the kid to find his words. “My family is more interested in the size of the dowry they can negotiate than my happiness. If I go back to them without an offer for my hand… I just really don’t want to go back. Once I’m married I’ll opt to never see them again.” There it was, maybe not all of it, but the gist. All laid out on the table. Sam’s baggage.

“Sam, have they threatened you?” Dean was looking a little upset by the news. Threatening a man who could bare children these days was a rather serious offense.

“Not in so many words. They never promised bodily harm, but made sure I knew if I wasn’t betrothed life would get uncomfortable.” Sam wasn’t ready for the flash of anger that went across Dean’s face. How could someone threaten such a nice kid? Suddenly Sam was uncomfortable under the heated gaze and he shifted on the porch step. “Please say something, Dean.”

“Yeah, alright. We need to talk to someone-” He was cut off by Sam flying to his feet.

“No, please, no! I can’t tell anyone, I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Sam, they’ll be punished. This is a serious situation here. Have they hurt you before?” Dean followed the boys motions and stood facing him.

“No, they haven’t. I can’t have this conversation. Please forget I said anything. I’ll be out of your hair in a few days, you don’t have to worry about it.” Sam was headed back to Dean’s cabin. The older man let him walk away, didn’t even try and stop him. Sam took it as a sign. Dean had decided to let him go. Too much drama for a couple of guys who barely knew each other. He never should have opened his mouth.

~*~

The next morning Charlie and Sam joined Bobby and Dean in the main house for breakfast, as per a tradition they established for their visit. The conversation was a bit sparse, unusually, with Charlie and Bobby the only two participating. Sam barely looked up from his plate, shoveling food around and eating very little of it. Dean barely looked away from Sam. Eating without tasting much of anything.

After they ate Bobby and Dean cleaned up the kitchen as Charlie and Sam settled in the library for some reading before their trip into town. When the dishes were done Bobby blocked Dean from leaving and nodded his head toward the front porch. Dean sighed his resignation and followed the old man outside.

“Alright, spill. What’d you do to the kid.” Dean laughed lightly and shook his head.

“Why’s it gotta be me, Bobby? What if it was someone else?” Bobby narrowed his eyes at Dean’s attempt to vaguely pass the buck.

“Who else would it be? Charlie didn’t piss in his wheaties.”

“His family.” Dean’s hands were shoved in his pockets and he squinted against the sun as he looked sideways at his uncle.

“Did he speak to them? Do they want him home?” Bobby was trying hard to understand the situation but, as per usual, Dean was being cryptic and making him ask a ton of questions to get all the information.

“No. They don’t want him home at all. They want to sell him and be rid of him. They aren’t going to welcome him back if this doesn’t work out.” He motioned one hand to the house and back to himself.

“If they harmed him or threatened him he can press charges.” Dean shook his head and stared at the front window.

“He doesn’t want to. I said the same thing and he completely shut down the conversation. Walked away.” Bobby narrowed his eyes again and tilted his head up.

“When, exactly, did you have this talk?” Dean had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Last night. I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here for a beer. I was sitting on the steps when Sam walked up. He sat down, we chatted. The kid opened up. He seemed nervous about it and when I brought up the crime he refused to talk about it anymore.” There was a moment of silence where neither of them moved.

“You know that’s against the rules right? If Charlie finds out she’d be obligated to take him home immediately. You two aren’t to be alone, to protect his virtue.” Dean rolled his eyes and grunted.

“Yeah, well, nothing happened. His virtue is intact.”

“That’s not the point.” Bobby sighed. “Well, if the boy doesn’t want to press charges what do you want to do? You got a plan to help him or are we just sending him home to a family who looks at him and sees dollar signs?” Dean rolled the options around in his head. He’d been up most of the night thinking about it. He turned to fully face Bobby, glanced at the house once more and looked back at his uncle.

“I’d like to make an offer. To Sam first. Then if he agrees, to his family.”

~*~

Bobby had pulled Charlie aside and given her some cash to take Sam to lunch and a movie. They had plans to head into town already, so the extra activities weren’t all that suspicious. Charlie grinned at Bobby and winked at Dean then applied her best poker face and let Sam know the other men had an emergency in the garage and would be staying home. Dean felt his heart skip a beat when Sam’s shoulder slumped a little at the news. The kid never looked at him, maybe suspecting Dean was pushing him away after their previous conversation.

Not ten minutes after the two left a nondescript vehicle pulled up in front of the house. Dean and Bobby still stood on the porch where they had waved off their company, waiting for the kid to show. Kid might be a little misleading, but Dean called everyone younger than him kid.

“Kevin, good to see you, boy,” Bobby said clasping him on the back. Kevin rolled his eyes, but grinned at the who. Apparently, Bobby had the same habits.

“It has been a while. I brought everything you asked for. Even though I specifically remember telling you it would be a good idea to keep your own copies of all your investments, assets, and inventory. We can go over that again when we’re done with whatever it is that was such an emergency.” Kevin walked right between them and into the house, calling over his shoulder, “The stuff’s in the box in the backseat.” Bobby grinned at Dean and nodded his head toward the car. Dean huffed a sigh, but didn’t argue, as he went to retrieve the box.

By the time he set it down in the living room and made his way to the kitchen Kevin already had a cup of coffee and some breakfast left overs. Bobby was leaning against the counter watching the skinny young man scarf it all down.

“So,” he said around a mouthful of eggs, “What’s this all about?” He shoveled an entire piece of bacon in his mouth. Dean looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Uh, we would like to put together a dowry proposal.” Kevin nearly spit out his food and his eyes went wide. After controlling his coughing long enough to swallow and drink some water he looked from Bobby to Dean and back.

“Are you serious? I didn’t even know you were looking.” Bobby looked at Dean with an amused grin on his face and his own eyebrows raised. The younger man shuffled nervously under his gaze and crossed his arms in front of his chest, shrugging his shoulders.

“Whatever, I wasn’t really. The agency sent someone over. They’re trying to hook us up. I just wanted to see if we could arrange something Sam liked. Then offer it to his family.” Dean could feel his neck heat slightly, and he wasn’t so sure why he was nervous. The further through the process they went the more real it was becoming.

“That’s awesome, man! Congratulations!” Kevin had been a friend of the family for a while. Bobby had sold him the car he drove around these days. Kevin had officially become their accountant as soon as he finished his vocational courses. They were his first clients, and his most lucrative.

Dean reached up and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, thanks. Can we get this show on the road? Charlie is taking Sam to lunch and a movie but I’d rather be done with this by the time they get back.” Kevin narrowed his eyes at him as he finished off his plate.

“Sam, huh? Does Sam know you’re putting this together?” Again, Bobby was looking at him with a too smug look. He scowled at his uncle.

“No. We chatted last night about a few things, but I never told him my intentions. Charlie was telling him a few days ago they were going to be heading home soon. It’s likely he thinks that’ll be the end of it.” Dean’s gaze hit the floor, not wanting to see the reaction of either man.

“Dean, I had no idea you were so romantic,” Kevin said rising from the chair to deposit his dishes in the sink.

“Shut up.”

~*~

“Sam, are you feeling alright today?” Sam blinked and looked over at his chaperone next to him at the table. He realized he had been off in his head and looked down at his barely touched coffee.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Why?” Charlie squinted her eyes while chewing slowly. She swallowed and appraised him for a second later.

“You seem off. You haven’t been talking today. At all. Which, actually, isn’t that strange. But you usually don’t space out. Did something happen? Are you bummed about leaving?” Sam curled his fingers around the lukewarm mug and nodded his head, shaking his hair lose to cover his face.

“Alright then. When we’re done here we’re going to get you some fresh clothing. We’ll be going to a nice dinner with Dean and Bobby and I’d like you to look the part.” She winked when Sam looked up suddenly.

“Why are we doing that?” He tried to keep the suspicious tone out of his question and looked back down at the table. Charlie grinned and lied easily.

“The agency assigns the same chaperones to every family. I’ll be seeing a lot of Dean and Bobby, at least until Dean finds a husband. It’s something I like to do for my cases.” In reality they would go to a celebratory dinner once Sam’s family agreed to the dowry. But Sam didn’t need to know that yet.

They had already been to the movie and sat at the diner for lunch. Sam just ordered the coffee. Across the street was an outdoor shopping plaza with a clothing department store. They walked the short distance and Charlie helped Sam pick out a nice pair of slacks, a white button down shirt, a sports blazer, a tie and new shoes.

“Who’s paying for this?” Sam had asked as they stood in the line for the cashier.

“The agency,” Charlie said reaching up to pat his shoulder. She looked up at him and gave a reassuring smile. “They want you presentable, and most of your clothing is, but you didn’t have anything formal. So now you do.” Her smile widened and she seemed rather proud of herself. Sam smiled back and just shook his head. He didn’t pay attention to the total when they were rung up.

The ride home was silent. No one tried to strike up a conversation and the quiet didn’t seem awkward so it was alright with Sam. When they pulled up into the drive there was a strange car there. Which wasn’t that strange considering they ran an auto shop from the salvage yard. But the car was in front of the house, not the garage. He started thinking he should have asked Charlie if they could just go home tomorrow. Why wait, right? Next time they were alone he’d bring it up.

They grabbed their bags from shopping and went to put them in Dean’s cabin before heading into the main house.

~*~

The boys had been sitting around the library for a few hours now. Dean was sitting on the couch with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. He wanted this to end hours ago. He was done. He didn’t care. He’d pitched enough fits already.

“Bobby, just give them everything!”

“Bobby, don’t give them anything!”

“Let’s just steal Sam.”

“Let’s just kill the family.”

It got to the point where Bobby was sure he was just pouting and he told Dean to shut up. The list of what they were willing to offer for the dowry wasn’t very long, but with receiving things as well as currency for the work they did gave them a nice range of options.

The plan was to run it by Sam first, and that alone had Dean’s stomach in knots, and then write up a formal offer to send to the family. 

“The kids back,” Bobby said looking out the front window, “We doin’ this now, idgit?” He looked down at the couch under the window and shook his head.

“Yes! God, please! Let’s get this over with,” Dean all but whined leaning forward to put his head in his hands. Bobby shook his head again and fought the urge to cuff him on the back of the head. Kevin just smirked from his spot at Bobby’s desk. He gathered up papers and started stuffing things back into file folders.

“Dean, do something useful and get some drinks outta the kitchen. This should be a big deal for you.” Dean rolled his eyes at his uncle and got up without too much of a fuss. The others heard him rummaging around in the fridge as they finished packing all but a light blue folder on the desk.

“This is a big deal, Bobby. It’s just the longer I stew on it the more I don’t want to give those ass hats anything. They are selling him. I’m buying a husband. I’m doing exactly what I didn’t want to do in the first place. All because some douche bags care more about a profit then their own kid. And I can’t not buy him because how do I send someone packing knowing what kinda situation he has waiting for him?” Bobby arched a brow at Dean’s sudden outburst, though he wasn’t surprised to hear what had been troubling the guy. He nodded and motioned toward the couch.

“Well, now is a fine time for all that to come out, son. We’ve been sitting around talking for hours and now that they’re home and,” he paused looking out the window, “on their way over we get down to the juicy bits.” Dean groaned and put his face in his hands again.

“And you’d better straighten up. If he thinks you don’t really want to go through with this he can reject you and he’s still going home.” He threw an elbow at his nephew and stood to open the door once Charlie and Sam got to the porch steps.

“C’mon in you two. We’ve got some things to talk about.”

~*~

The room was silent, near deafening. Everyone was staring at Sam, who was seated on the couch next to Charlie. Kevin was still seated at Bobby’s desk, Dean leaning a hip against it, and Bobby in the chair across the couch. Sam had his eyes turned down at the paper on the coffee table, his hair acting as a curtain in his face. He knew everyone was still staring at him.

He exhaled a shaky breath and asked to get some air. Without waiting for an answer he bolted from the room and out the front door. When he didn’t stop at the porch Charlie nodded at Dean who took off after him at a slower pace. Bobby shrugged.

“He’s been off all morning. He won't talk to me about it.”

“If they go off alone is it going to complicate things? I know Sam’s supposed to have a chaperone,” Bobby asked the question knowing if it wasn’t okay Charlie would have said something. He just needed it in the open. She shook her head.

“Now that a negotiation has begun they can take some time alone to discuss it privately between them. Afterall, it is their marriage on the line.” Bobby nodded and went to the kitchen for another beer, offering one to Charlie when he returned. She smiled gratefully and the living room fell into silence once more.

~*~

Dean followed the kid at a distance. He wasn't trying to hide, but still wasn't sure if Sam knew he was there. Sam had his hands shoved deep into his pockets and was moving at a pace that suggested he had a specific destination in mind. After walking through the maze of cars and stacks of cars Dean was sure he was undetected and started hanging back to remain that way. He was curious about Sam's endgame and figured he wouldn't find out if the kid saw him.

The salvage yard didn't take up all seven acres. Nearly half had become open field and flourishing stands of trees. Dean's main concern had been Sam getting lost if he ran off emotional and didn't pay attention to where he was going. Now he was wondering if he'd found himself a hide out. Once Sam got to the trees at the back of the property he stopped. Dean ducked, watching him through a cracked mirror, which turned out to be a good idea cause Sam turned to look back before continuing on.

Dean followed him into the trees where it was a bit harder to follow quietly so he had to hang back a bit farther.

“Where the fuck are you going, kid?” Dean asked the trees quietly. Sam stopped again and Dean ducked into some bushes. This time he didn't have any means to peek so he stayed down a bit before daring a look. When he edged his head up Sam was gone.

“Shit!” He stood a little higher and scanned the trees. No sounds, no movement. Sam had looked like he knew where he was going so Dean didn't think he'd get lost, but his curiosity was peaked. He crept out from the brush and headed to where he'd last seen the other man. From there he turned in a circle, looking for footprints or broken branches. It was only then, while studying the ground that he noticed a slightly worn path through the ground cover.

He knelt and looked toward a rise in the ground, then back the way he'd come and whispered, “I'll be damned.” The branches of bushes were unbroken from being brushed aside, but the ground had been walked over enough to create the beginnings of a trail. He grinned.

Almost fifteen yards further into the trees there was a depression in the earth. Against the rise in the ground was the entrance to a mine shaft, a small slope leading into it. Dean looked around again wondering if this was really it. The tunnel was pitch black. He steeled his nerves and pulled out his zippo.

The tunnel sloped down until it was underground, and at just over six foot he didn't need to duck to walk. About five feet after the ground leveled out there was a sharp right turn, he had such limited visibility he almost ran into the stone wall. Past the turn he saw another sharp left only because there was a glow around the corner. Had to be Sam.

Dean flicked his zippo closed and peeked an eye around the corner. Sam had already built a fire, though depending on when he'd been there last he may have just had to stoke it. There was a log that served as something to sit on. A few things that were being used as furniture that must have come from the scrap yard. Dean found himself wondering when the kid would have had time to do all of this. Charlie seemed to be his shadow. He remembered their late night talk and wondered if Sam was up like that all the time.

He watched Sam poke at the fire for a while, seeming deep in thought. When it looked like that was all he planned to do for the rest of the day Dean stepped out from the shadows putting himself in clear view. Sam only moved to look up at him, but his wide eyes told Dean he had been as stealthy as he thought.

Neither of them spoke as Dean sauntered over to the log Sam was resting on and settled next to him. They didn't look at each other for a while. Both seemed content to watch the fire and consider their words. Dean started to figure Sam was going to make him speak first but as he took a breath and opened his mouth…

“Caught me, huh?” Dean's teeth clicked he shut his mouth so fast. That was not what he was expecting.

“Looks like it. I didn't even know this was back here. It's hidden pretty well. You can deck it out, if you want. Make it your own Batcave.” Sam was quiet and motionless. Dean was at a loss for words. Which was rare. After a few more beats of silence Sam turned himself to face Dean fully.

“You don't have to do me any favors. I don't want any favors.” Dean turned his head to look at Sam and nodded slightly. More silence.

“I thought I was doing myself a favor,” he replied slowly. Sam gave him an exaggeratedly incredulous look. Dean fought a smirk. “I don't want you to go, Sam. I'd like to get to know you better.” Sam turned back to the fire and looked down at his hands, fidgeting a bit.

When there was no reply Dean looked back to the fire as well and waited for Sam to speak. Sitting back so far in the tunnel the crackle of the fire was the only sound. Dean took the opportunity to look around a bit more. The ceiling was a bit higher here and the rest of the shaft moved on deeper into the underground. He tried to pinpoint where the smoke was going because it wasn't cloudy. There had to be an outlet. He was so lost in thought he nearly jumped at the sound of the others voice.

“Why?”

Dean's head snapped back to look at Sam, who hadn't moved. He almost thought he had imagined it until the kid's head turned slightly to look at him through his hair. He thought for a moment, while maintaining eye contact, about an honest answer. Sam waited patiently.

“I feel like,” he started slowly, then sighed. “You don't talk much, but I'm pretty sure you're smart. When you do talk it feels forced, like you're trying to be what I want. I don't want you to impress me, Sam. I want to know you. What do you want?” Sam shrugged half heartedly, so Dean kept going.

“Well, do you want to stay? Are you even into me? Do you want to negotiate the proposal before we send it to your family, do you want to wait, do you want a sandwich? C’mon, man.” This at least got a chuckle from under the shaggy hair.

“I don't know,” Sam said slowly, “no one's asked me that before.” They stared at each other for a moment. Dean wasn't even sure what to say to that. After another moment of silence Dean offered a small smile.

“Well, I can assure you this. If you choose to stay I will always ask what you want.” It was the biggest and possibly the first real smile he'd gotten from Sam since his arrival.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, please see end note for an explanation (if you're interested, it's more of a vent).

By the time the boys made their way back to the house the sun was setting. Bobby and Charlie were sitting on the front porch, Charlie waiting not so patiently. Sam saw the tension leave her shoulders as soon as she saw them. She rushed forward and wrapped Sam in a hug.

“Are you alright? You've been gone for hours. If I had known it would be so long I wouldn't have let you leave!” Her words came out in a rush as she examined him for any obvious trauma. No one missed the glare she shot Dean.

“Let's go inside,” Sam said smiling at her. He finally started batting her hands away and nudged her toward the door. He dipped his head and his smile turned shy when he felt Dean's hand on the small of his back. The four of them made their way back to the living room, but Charlie didn't sit.

“I think we should just call it a night. We can take some leftovers back to the cabin and eat there. We can all discuss this in the morning.” Dean narrowed his eyes and searched her face, he wasn't sure he wasn't being accused of anything. As soon as he opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off.

“Charlie, I want to stay. I’m going to stay. We should work out the dowry so we can send it to Mom and Dad in the morning.” It was Charlie’s turn to squint. She looked between Sam and Dean, then broke into a huge smile and almost jumped on Sam.

“Really! That’s so great, I’m so happy for you! With the way you took off I was afraid you were upset, and then when you two didn’t come back for so long I was afraid something happened. This is great news guys!” She finally released Sam and tackled Dean in his own bear hug. Everyone was chuckling lightly when she finally let go and straightened her clothes. Her attitude did a 180. “Alright, let’s go over the list. We need to make sure Sam approves, then, Sam, you’ll need to let us know of any adjustments your family might ask for. Oh! Bobby! Drinks all around!”

Charlie wasn’t wrong when she had said it was rather late, but no one seemed to be very tired anymore. They all resumed their seats in the living room, except this time Sam and Dean took the couch, Charlie in the chair across from them and Bobby standing at his desk. The papers were spread out on the table and Sam was reading over them carefully. The room was silent and slightly tense.

“I think the car is a good idea. Dad would rather have a car than a truck. What color is it?” Sam asked looking up at Bobby, then to Dean next to him.

“Does it matter?” Dean asked scrunching his eyebrows. Sam smiled at him, almost condescending.

“Yeah, it actually might.” Sam nodded his head and went back to looking at the paper. Bobby grunted.

“We can add an addendum the color of the vehicle and offer to repaint it to what they’d like. We can list options of paint we’ve already got,” the old man offered. He looked slightly irritated at the idea, but was trying to remember the whole point was to impress the new in-laws.

“That would probably go over better than trying to guess what color he’d prefer. He does enjoy the power.” The last statement was a bit bitter. Dean reached over and rubbed a hand over Sam’s knee in a comforting gesture. He couldn’t wait to get the kid out from under his family’s thumb.

The rest of the offer was random luxuries that not everyone had. The last article a sum of money, 5,000 pieces. Not a small amount these days.

The list looked good to Sam. It wasn’t too over the top while he was sure his father and uncle wouldn’t feel short changed. They’d be the ones handling the negotiations. His mother was nice enough, and very loving, but she kinda followed Sam’s father around like a lost puppy. She probably wouldn’t be consulted about the offer at all.

Sam looked it over one last time and nodded as he put the paper on the coffee table. Kevin had been making adjustments on the computer as Sam had been speaking so he only had to polish it up a bit before presenting the final copy to Sam. Who nodded again and looked around the room. He went to rub his palms over his thighs and realized Dean’s hand was still there. He left his over Dean’s as he looked sideways at him shyly. Dean smiled back and Bobby cleared his throat.

The boys looked up to see everyone staring at them. Charlie looked smitten, Bobby looked annoyed, and Kevin was smirking. Dean glared at all of them in turn and pulled his hand back to cross his arms over his chest. Sam blushed.

Charlie and Sam went back to Dean’s cabin for the night. Dean was slightly disappointed. He had been hoping that making an offer would get him his place back.

“Yeah, no, sorry. We haven’t even sent it yet. Then they have a week to look it over and either accept, decline, or offer changes. We’ll see how long it takes them to respond before we make any decisions about living arrangements.” Dean huffed at her, but watched them leave anyway.

~*~

Dean lay awake in bed that night mulling everything over. He hoped Kevin would get the offer in the mail as soon as possible. He wondered if Sam would be in his hideout tonight. He even thought about making his way out into the woods to check, but decided against it. The kid knew his way back and forth, obviously. He may need some alone time to contemplate what all had happened that day.

The next morning Kevin stopped by around 10 to let Dean and Bobby know the courier had picked up the letter and was told to go straight to the Campbell residence and return immediately with news of whether they would consider or decline. It would take at least two days for the round trip, longer if the Campbell’s stalled with the news of consideration.

“There’s an awful lot of hurry-up-and-wait going on here,” Dean gripped at his uncle. They were in Bobby’s kitchen prepping burgers for a barbeque later in the afternoon. Kind of a pre-celebration celebration. A congratulations to Sam and Dean for taking the first step toward their marriage. It was going to be small, just the guys, Charlie and Bobby, Kevin and his mother, and everyone who worked at Bobby’s garage.

“Yep. You know the gov’ment, boy. Always meddling, keeping folks on their toes.” Dean looked over his shoulder to glare at the old man’s back. Sometimes Bobby wasn’t very helpful at all.

The front door burst open causing both men to turn and assess for threat. Then Garth popped his head in, the dumbest grin on his face, and both relaxed and rolled their eyes.

“Ya damn, idjit! You’re gonna break my door!”

“Sorry, Bobby! I’m just so excited, ya know!” Then Dean found himself in a bear hug around his biceps and chest and was lifted off the ground. His eyes went wide and found Bobby.

“The fuck- Get off me, man!” Garth squeezed once more and put Dean down. Dean spun to turn his wide eyed look on the skinnier mechanic.

“I’m sorry, really. I’m just so excited for you!” Dean’s face relaxed and he turned back to making patties with ground beef.

“Yeah, buddy. You said that already. Thanks, Garth. I’m happy you're happy for me.” Garth patted him on the shoulder enthusiastically.

“So… Where’s the lucky man?” Dean chuckled slightly and leaned to his right over the sink to holler out the open window.

“Run, Sam!” He saw his fiance… That thought rocked him for a second… Turn from his conversation with Kevin and his mother to give Dean a confused look, then scanned the yard with worried eyes. Dean just laughed at Garth huffed and took off back out the front door. All Dean heard was ‘No, Sam, I’m cool! Don’t run!’ He chuckled to himself at the counter for a while.

“You just gotta tease that one, don’cha?” Bobby half grumbled. Dean heard the smile in his voice. They all loved Garth, as exuberant and excitable as he tended to be.

Dean took the plate of patties and handed it off to Bobby with a, “he started it.”

Outside all of their guests were mingling and drinking and seeming to have a nice time. Ms. Tran was giving Sam the third degree and he was starting to look a little intimidated. Garth was standing next to their chairs with his hands folded in front of him. No doubt told to wait his turn by their accountant’s mother.

Charlie was by the grill chatting with Jo and Bobby. The girls were animated in their conversation and Bobby looked like he was trying to tune them out. Dean huffed a laugh and sipped his beer. He scanned the yard further to find Benny and Kevin taking condiments, plates, and utensils out of a basket to line up in the middle of their picnic tables. He swigged the last of his beer and whistled. Benny looked up and nodded, holding his empty as well.

Dean grabbed them a couple fresh beers from his little green cooler and made his way to Benny as Kevin went to attempt to rescue Sam from his mother.

“Thanks, brotha,” Benny said taking the cold brew and they both drank deep. “You got a second to talk with me, man?” Dean looked at him curiously, but nodded. Benny tilted his head toward the garage.

“Hey!” Bobby shouted after them, “No workin’ at cook outs!” The who boys waved him off and grinned as they kept walking. They didn’t need to hear it to know Bobby was calling them idjits.

“So what’s up Benny?”

“You’re really doin’ this, huh?” Benny asked leaning back against a workbench and crossing his legs in front of him. He cocked his head to the side and took a swig of his beer. Dean eyed him with caution, trying to decipher his tone.

“Uh, yeah, Ben. I am. Why, what’s going on?” Benny shook his head and pulled his top lip between his teeth eyeing his friend.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Dean, long time. Never woulda pegged you for the settlin’ down type,” Benny raised a hand to halt whatever it was Dean was going to say next, then continued when his friend stopped. “You got that letter in the mail about your test results and you seemed a bit peeved they were tryin’a set you up with someone. Didn’t wanna buy the boy. Now, how long’s it been? Couple weeks?”

“Few.” But Dean sounded like he was pouting.

“Fine, few weeks. What do you know about him? When you see me at work you never talk about him. Are y’all gon’ have kids right away? Wait? What’s his favorite color?” Benny knew he was sounding a little judgemental, and maybe even slightly hysterical. But he also knew someone had to ask the hard questions.

“We haven’t discussed any of that, actually.” Dean was thankful he said it was an even voice as he tilted his chin up. “But I can tell you he’s scared to go home. And what little he’s interacted with me has just left me wanting more. I know that Charlie loves him, and we kinda like Charlie. I also know how I’d feel if I were in his place. Things changed, pretty quickly. The world did a one eighty on us. And I can see in his face he’s terrified. I know me. I know I won't force him to do anything. I know I can provide him a home, a safe place to live.

“You’re right. I didn’t want to buy into my marriage. But in this case it feels more like a rescue mission than a mail-order-husband.” Dean had been pacing the floor, listing off on his fingers. It took him a second to get started but then the words just rolled off his tongue. Some of them surprising to even him. Benny just chuckled at him and tossed his empty amber bottle into the trash can.

“Well, alright then. Let’s go get to know my new brother-in-law.” Dean’s relieved grin matched Benny’s cocky one and he punched his cajun friend in the arm on their way out.

“Damn, Benny. Why’d you have to make me into such a sap.”

~*~

The cookout had been a huge success. Everyone got along perfectly, conversations flowed easily, and most of the food was consumed. Dean was just drifting off to sleep when there was a tap on his window. He sluggishly opened his eyes, thinking he was hearing things and freaking exhausted. But just as he closed his lids again another couple of taps came.

He threw the blanket off himself and dragged his feet to the window to look outside. The moon was about half full and there weren’t very many clouds. It was fairly easy to see the yard on the side of the house. And there stood Sam. Shifting on his feet and looking around nervously. Dean slid the lock off the top of the window and shoved it up. He poked his head out and smirked, though he wasn’t sure Sam could even see him.

“Y’alright, Sam?” The kid nodded his head and reached up to rub the back of his neck nervously. He looked around again before looking back up at Dean.

“You, uh… You wanna go for a walk?” Dean couldn’t help but grin at his nervousness. But he was rather excited he was putting forth the effort to seek the older man out. Sam had already agreed to stay, but asking for quality time told Dean he really wanted to make it work. Maybe the kid had the same feelings Dean did.

“Yeah, lemme get a jacket, I’ll be right down.” Sam grinned back up at him, the smile easy to see in the shadows the moonlight cast across his features. When Dean closed the window Sam made his way to the front porch. He stood at the bottom of the steps with his hands in his pockets, still scanning the yard every now and then.

He was beginning to wonder if Dean had changed his mind with the door creaked open and the man himself started shuffling out. It took a second for Sam to realize he was carrying a few things awkwardly across the threshold so he hurried to help. He grabbed the green cooler to free one of Dean’s hands to better balance the bulky load he had on his left arm.

“What is all this?” Sam whispered as he peeked into the cooler.

“Ah!” Dean hissed back as he slapped his hand away. “That is a surprise. Lead the way, babe.” Sam ducked his head and tried to hid the grin that flashed across his face. He wasn’t used to pet names. Not affectionate ones, anyway. He turned to step off the porch and lead the way through the scrap yard to the woods.

Just after they entered the cover of the trees clouds moved in and blocked out most of the moonlight. They both froze and tried to wait for their eyes to adjust, but there just wasn’t enough to see where they were going. Sam huffed and dropped his shoulders turning to Dean. Suddenly his eyes were flooded with light.

“Ow! What the fuck, man?” He held up his hands and turned his head away.

“Whoa, buddy. Never heard you curse before. Is the honeymoon phase over? Am I going to start seeing the real you?” Dean took the headlamp off and handed it over to the younger man, who was trying to hide the grin on his face. Sam snatched it and adjusted the straps on his head, then picked the cooler back up and started making his way to the mine.

“I guess so,” he started after a while, “I’m a snarky potty mouth and you’re an asshole jokester. We’ll make quite the pair.” Dean couldn’t help but smile at Sam’s back.

“Maybe it’d be better if we join forces and gang up on everyone else. We’d be one hell of a team.” The younger man liked how Dean said that like they were already getting married. Like the negotiations wouldn’t fail, and this man could sweep him away from his manipulative family and give him a better future.

The rest of the walk was silent. They came upon the entrance to the mine faster than Dean thought they would. Sam led the way down the tunnel and to his, now shared, hideout. Dean set the cooler behind the bench/log and started maneuvering the bundle with his back to Sam. The kid used his headlamp to start the fire again. It has been a couple days since he was down here so the coals were burnt out and cold.

Before Dean was done with his task light from the new flames started illuminating the cave around them, making it a little easier for Dean to see what he was doing. Sam sat with his back to Dean and his hands toward the fire, warming his palms. He resisted the urge to peek over the guy's shoulder, knowing he’d be told when to look.

He heard shuffling around then Dean told him to stand. Then sit. When he landed back on the log instead of hard wood there was a soft cushion. He spread his knees and looked down. Under and next to him were matching chair cushions. They looked like something that would be on patio furniture.

“They’re a little worn, but they work. And later on I’ll smooth out this log so they sit flat.” Dean took a seat next to Sam, so their shoulders were touching, and threw a quilt over Sam’s opposite side. They huddled together and pulled the blanket around close, knowing that between the fire, their jackets, and the blanket they’d be warm enough soon.

“So,” Dean started hesitantly, “Sam, you want kids?” Sam looked at him, a little shocked, and cocked half a smile.

“A little personal, don’t you think?” Dean returned a closed mouth smile that crinkled his eyes.

“You agreed to marry me.”

“Touche,” Sam said huffing a laugh. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, I never really gave it too much thought, you know? Figured I was young, had some time. Then the tests came back and a week later they were sending me to you. It’s all happened so fast. I mean I like kids, I just never imagined birthing one. I’m still not even a hundred percent sure on how that all works-” Sam was cut off by lips on his own.

His eyebrows shot up for a second and he froze. Dean opened and closed his mouth over Sam’s top lip and pulled back a couple inches.

“Sorry, you were rambling.” Sam breathed a laugh, but didn’t move back. He looked from Dean’s firelit eyes down to his plump lips without moving back.

“S’okay,” he whispered, looking back to green eyes. “Do it again?” Needing no more encouragement than that Dean raised his hand to cup Sam’s cheek, running his thumb gently over the high cheekbone and leaned in for another chaste kiss. This time their lips lingered longer, moving over each other without adding tongue. Dean leaned back a bit to look over Sam’s face. His eyebrows were raised slightly over closed eyes. His lips parted just enough to show a flash of white teeth. His breath was a little quick and shallow in his chest.

“I probably should have asked first,” he offered in way of apology. He leaned forward and brushed his nose against Sam’s to get him to open his eyes. After a couple more seconds he did, they were slightly shiny but there was no fear. The Sam shrugged a shoulder a little.

“Maybe. But it was perfect.” They both smiled at each other. “And yes.” Dean’s brows furrowed.

“Yes. I want kids. Maybe a few.” Dean smiled and bumped Sam with his shoulder. Sam reached up and grabbed Dean’s hand, intertwining their fingers and laying them in his lap. A little while later Dean offered beers from the cooler. They sat, rotating comfortable silence with small talk until it was late. Then they headed back to the house with the cooler in hand, leaving the pillows and blankets as new editions to their hideaway.

~*~

A few days later Dean was working in the garage. He was laying on a creeper working the bottom while Garth bent over the edge from the top. Sam wasn’t sure what they were trying to get at, even though they’d mentioned it a few times. He was trying to concentrate on what Jo was telling him about organizing the paperwork, but he also kept catching glimpses of Dean’s bare biceps as he moved around under the car. It was a huge plus the first guy the agency sent him to was gorgeous.

“Right, Sam?” Sam snapped his head up to look at Jo. She had an eyebrow arched and a knowing smirk on her face. Sam blushed and ducked his head.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s a nice hunk of man meat, and you haven’t gotten used to him yet. He’ll annoy the crap out of you in no time.” She winked. Sam huffed a laugh and a wrench flew past them from under the car.

“Dean!” Bobby hollered from the house. Sam and Jo looked out the bay door and there was a loud bang from under the car.

“Ah, shit! Fuck! Shit, fuck, Bobby!” He rolled himself out under the front and sat up. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was holding a hand tight to his right eyebrow. When he pulled his fingers away there was blood smeared across them. He heaved himself off the floor and touched the cut again, hissing this time at the sting. Sam was right there.

“Oh, man! Are you okay? Here, let me help,” the younger man said grabbing one of Dean’s elbows and pressing a clean shop rag to the wound. The two went into the house, Bobby watching them from the porch. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was shaking his head with an amused grin.

“Now why’d you go ‘n do that, idjit?”

“Shut up.”

Sam took Dean into the bathroom upstairs and pushed him to sit on the toilet. He had him hold the rag to his face as he gathered supplies from under the sink. He turned back to the older man and paused.

“What? You’re not squeamish are you?” Dean tried to cock his eyebrow and winced at the pull on his torn skin. Sam rolled his eyes and set the stuff on the counter.

“No, blood doesn’t bother me. But you’re covered in grease and sweat. You might wanna get cleaned up before I bandage your eye.” Dean eyed him for a moment, caught between wanting to argue and doing what his boyfriend asked. Also, he had decided he was calling Sam his boyfriend, at least in his head, until the dowry negotiations went through. He nodded at Sam.

“Yeah, okay.” He stood and put the rag in the sink, the blood flowed freely down the side of his face. Sam was aware head wounds bleed a lot but he was a little shocked at Dean’s lack of concern. Then he lost his shirt. Sam's throat clicked with his swallow. Dean noticed, but pretended not too, then grinned a bit wicked.

Without any preamble Dean unfastened his button fly and lost his jeans in one tug. There were no boxers to worry about. He stepped out of the pooled denim and leaned forward a bit to turn on the water to the shower. Sam hadn’t moved, though Dean couldn’t see him. He was trying to act as natural as possible.

Sam, on the other hand, was choking on air. His whole body was rigid and his mind was racing. Should he turn his head? Should he leave? Should Dean appear so calm? His eyes scanned the planes of hard tanned muscle. There was a clear tan line at his waist and from there down was light, nearly unblemished, skin. For a second he was awestruck.

This was the man he was sent to marry. This was the man he shared his first kiss with. Sam’s fingers itched to touch, but he didn’t want to overstep his bounds. He was brought out of his thoughts when Dean moved into the shower. The curtain was pulled closed with a snap, the force of it pulling the back half away from the wall. Every now and then Sam would get a peek of skin as Dean moved around scrubbing off the blood and grime.

The younger man was rocked from his thoughts, and his staring, when the curtain was yanked open again. Dean stood in the tub, butt naked. Sam’s eyes followed drops of water as they ran down between his pecks and over his little pudge tummy. One disappeared into his belly button. Then Sam’s attention was on the dark trail of hair leading to… When Sam’s eyes dropped that low Dean cocked a leg out to the side and put his hands on his hips. The kid blushed deep red before his eyes even came up to look at Dean’s face. His stupid smirking face.

“Like what you see, Sammy?” He cringed when he tried to arch his eyebrow again. Something that should have been a bit of comic relief but only jolted him back to reality and made him turn away.

“It’s okay to look, baby. I’m hoping we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future.” No response. Sam busied his hands with the packages of bandages on the counter. Dean sighed and grabbed a towel to dry off. He wrapped it around his waist and stepped out to sit back down on the toilet and wait.

Sam still wouldn’t look at him as he pressed gauze to the wound to stop the bleeding. It had slowed, but was still oozing a little. Dean held still but watched from the corner of his eye. The kids hands were sure, not shaky at all. Which was a little impressive considering his, seemingly, panicked state.

He finished cleaning the wound, applied butterflies to hold it closed and tapped a bandage over it. He was turning to leave the bathroom when Dean caught his wrist. The older man didn’t pull him in, just held him until Sam turned his head to look through his curtain of bangs.

“Sorry, Sammy,” he said softly, “didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Sam huffed a humorless laugh and turned to face his boyfriend. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then shook his head with an exasperated grin.

“No, Dean, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have been ogling you.” He looked down shyly again. Dean shot to his feet and moved his hands to cup Sam’s face.

“You can ogle me anytime, baby. No harm no foul.” Sam still didn’t look him in the eye and Dean wasn’t about to let him out of there looking like a kicked puppy. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Sam’s eyes finally darted up to meet his own. The kid looked a little nervous, he bit the corner of his bottom lip and wondered to himself why he even had to consider it. Finally he nodded and shook his head to move his bangs. Dean grinned, a bit wolfishly, and leaned forward to kiss the corner of Sam’s mouth. He peppered light kisses across the kid's lips and closed his mouth over the top one.

He smiled against Sam’s mouth when he heard him hum.

“C’mon, kid. I’m sure Bobby was calling us in to get ready for dinner.” The words were spoken almost as a whisper against the younger man’s mouth. Sam opened his eyes, he didn’t realize closing, and nodded slightly. His heart leapt at the warm smile and dancing green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, again, sorry this is late (supposed to be on Monday). There was a bit of a domestic disturbance, hubby and I do that every now and then. He thinks I spend too much time reading and writing fan fiction. Which I get it, it's fan fiction, but I have never in my life been in "trouble" for reading or writing. I've been a bit down and haven't written a word on this piece for a week so there is 1 more finished chapter, then it may be longer than a week before updates, sorry about that too.
> 
> I'm on the upside now, still a bit scatter brained, but getting better. Today (the 12th) is my daughter's 3rd birthday, so I've been planning her party for this weekend, fighting with my other half and trying to keep my house in order. It's been an ordeal. BUT I will be okay, always am. Always Keep Fighting, right? Thanks for all the love. It always makes me smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and support. All of your comments and messages were kind and motivating. Now that the holiday is over I'll have more time to write, yay! Until Beltane, of course.

A stiff knock on the door interrupted the soft sounds of shuffling papers. The echo of the intrusion seemed louder from the long period of near silence. His hands froze and he tilted his eyes up over the rims of his wire glasses without moving his head. Contemplating, for a moment, about just ignoring the request for entrance caused another knock.

He sighed and put his documents down. A gruff ‘enter’ had the door opening and his house keeper stepping in to offer a letter.

“From the agency, sir.” This had him straightening in his chair. He held out a hand and waved her forward, snatching the envelope as soon as she was close enough.

“Fine, thank you. Fetch my brother.” He didn't bother looking at her as he spoke, she was hired help. She ignored the dehumanizing gesture and nodded.

“Yes, Mr. Campbell.” She fled the room quietly and made her way to the den, where Samuel's brother usually lurked. Samuel waited until she was out the door to retrieve the letter opener from the top drawer of the desk. He tore the top of the envelope and pulled the few pages out to unfold.

“Is that it? Seems a bit thin don't you think?” Samuel looked over the top of the pages as his brother plopped into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Samuel shrugged and went back to the cover letter.

“This one's from the agency, just a procedure on negotiating or accepting the offer and where things move from there.” He finished scanning the page and offered it to the man across from him. Who waved the paper off while scrunching his nose.

“No, get to the good stuff. How much are we getting for the moose?” Samuel scanned the list of the proffered dowry and scrunched his own nose a bit before tearing off his glasses and rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth. This time when he offered the page his brother took it.

“Well, this is barely enough to cover your debt, dear brother. What will we counter?” The paper was shoved back at the desk. Samuel shoved his glasses away and pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.

“I don't know, Crowley, how about being helpful and making a fucking suggestion instead of trying to complicate things?” Crowley had the audacity to smirk.

“Right. You made a bad bet or twenty. You lost almost all your money. You have a son who's only use to us is to find a rich husband. But it's me who complicates your life.” He took a sip from the tumbler in his hand as he rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, just a bit stressed. Do you have any suggestions on Sam?” This time Crowley sat forward and put the tumbler on the desk before resting his elbows on the wood.

“It's simple, really. We just want more money. Our carrier, Sam, is quite the catch. He'll make a fetching husband, he'll carry his mooslings well, and he can learn… stuff. We just make sure they know what they're getting and tell them we want more money. In order to even send an offer they have to be interested. Are they willing to risk losing their precious new carrier by denying their new in-laws proper dues?” By the time his brothers speech was done Samuel was nodding.

“Yeah! If he wants my son he owes us compensation. He needs to prove he can provide for my boy and grandbabies.” Crowley smiled wickedly and grabbed up his tumbler.

“That's the ticket. Send word we're considering a counter offer. I'll get a hold of that investigator I worked with and have him dig into the Singer’s financials. Winchester’s too, just in case. We'll find out if they're hiding anything and be able to make a proper solution.” Samuel was nodding again as he turned to his computer and begun the letter to Dean and Bobby.

Crowley made his exit from the office and headed to his room. Living with his brother definitely had its advantages. No mortgage, for one. And he was always available to help Samuel with any plans he tried to formulate. His poor brother, always trying to get ahead.

~*~

Bobby had, indeed, called the boys in for dinner. They had a reservation at the best sit-down place in town. And if they were late they'd lose it. Sam and Dean got ready in their own rooms, Dean still didn't have his house back yet. When Sam and Charlie came out of Dean's cabin Bobby and Dean were waiting on the front porch. Dean offered to drive Sam in the Impala while Bobby and Charlie took the truck.

As they entered the restaurant Sam gawked at the interior. High ceilings with mismatch chandeliers, green plants in mismatch pots. It was about as elegant as things could be these days. Dean whistled low as Bobby went to the host to check in. Charlie seemed right at home, somehow she was able to adapt to any situation.

Once they were seated the boys sat in awkward silence. They shared looks that said they were both a bit out of their element. Bobby ordered appetizers that Dean knew had English names, but he couldn't for the life of him think of what they'd be served. Charlie tried for small talk, but Sam seemed distracted with making sure the other patrons weren't staring at him.

Just after the strange looking food was served Dean kicked Sam under the table and motioned his head outside.

“Hey, uh, Bobby. I'm gonna grab a smoke,” he said standing and brushing off his black slacks. Bobby furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded. Sam placed the napkin from his lap on the table.

“Mind if I join you? I don't want to smoke, just get some air.” Sam rose from his chair and looked to Charlie. She looked extremely pleased he was actively trying to spend time with Dean.

“Sure, Sammy. We'll be right back.” Bobby nodded again and Charlie winked at Dean. He grinned, knowing she had no idea what he had planned. Once the boys were out the door Dean grabbed Sam's hand in his and speed walked to the Impala. Sam laughing and having no trouble keeping up.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked looking back at the restaurant doors, as if Bobby or Charlie were going to chase them down.

“We're makin’ a break for it. This is not our scene.” Dean threw the driver door open and urged Sam inside, who scooted across the bench seat, grinning like a loon.

“Oh, yeah?” His tone was flirtatious and actually kicked up a storm of butterflies in Dean's gut. “And what is our scene?” It was Dean's grin, a hint of feral, that made Sam swallow against the lump in his throat.

“I have a place. I'm practically royalty. But first, lemme ask you something.” Sam could only nod. “Can I take you out tonight, Sammy? Like, a date?” Sam couldn't stop the grin that split his face if he tried. Dean might have made him speechless, cause the only answer he got was a nod.

The Winchester laughed and slapped the steering wheel with both hands. Then peeled out of the parking lot. Sam laughing almost as loud as the car’s engine.

Once on the street Dean fished a box out from under Sam's seat and dropped it in his lap. Sam shifted the tapes around, reading titles for a while.

“I don't know any of these artists,” he finally caved looking at his boyfriend. That simple thought made him smile again. But then the car was yanked to the side of the road and hauled to a stop. The driver was staring with his mouth open. Sam felt his cheeks pink a bit as he shrugged.

“Did they have you tied up in a basement?” Dean regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but Sam seemed unaffected.

“Not that bad.” But it came out on a humorless chuckle. “My parents were financially stable, we were never poor. But they wanted more. They seemed to take the whole ‘fake it till you make it’ pretty seriously. Classical music, faux crystal, antiques. They believed in their image.” Sam looked down at the box again. Dean let the silence stretch for a moment then took the box back.

“Alright, nothing to worry about. But, if you're going to be my husband lesson one is music. This, is music.” He shoved a beat up hunk of plastic in the cassette deck and Enter Sandman began. He went on to explain the members of the band and who had survived the virus. They were just at the starting chords to Wherever I May Roam when the Impala crawled off the blacktop into a dirt parking lot. By the time Dean cut the engine Sam was moving with the beat.

“So?” Dean asked when the silence got to be too much. Sam grinned mischievously and shrugged, bobbing his head from shoulder to shoulder. Dean's eyebrows shot up, but before he could be incredulous Sam laughed at him.

“I liked it, man. I'd like to hear more. And maybe more of your other artists.” Dean smiled then scowled.

“Stop calling them artists, they're bands. It's more manly.” Sam laughed again and followed Dean's lead in getting out of the car. He took in the front of the building while Dean sidled up to his side. Worn wood facade, almost looked condemned, neon lights.

“The Roadhouse?” Dean's smile was near blinding.

“The Roadhouse. Hungry?” He asked offering Sam his elbow. The younger man looped his arm in Dean's without taking his eyes of the bar. Dean lead them in through the swinging, western saloon style, front doors.

The place was packed, smokey and loud. There was similar music from the Impala vibrating through the air. Sam, unconsciously, moved closer to Dean. He slid his hand down Dean's arm and intertwined their fingers. The older man grinned and squeezed as he led them through the crowd to an empty high top next to a pool table.

“Ever play pool?” Dean had to lean in close to be heard over the music and the crowd. Sam smiled good naturedly and leaned close to Dean, soft breath tickling his ear.

“Classy, remember?” A side of Dean's mouth quirked up. And his eyes went from Sam's hazel's down to his spit slick lips. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and looked back into Sam’s eyes.

“C’mon, pools a classy game.” Sam just huffed a laugh and nodded toward the table a couple men were just leaving.

“You show me how?” he asked quirking up an eyebrow. Dean grinned wider, his eyes shining with mischief.

“Course I will, Sammy.” They stared at each other for a moment. An array of emotions passed over Sam’s face and through his eyes. Dean found himself wondering what the kid was thinking, but dared not to speak and break the moment. Sam did it for him.

“We’d better get to it. Before someone takes our table.” He sat back and shifted on his stool so his legs weren’t under the table anymore.

“No worries, Sammy,” Dean said softly, “I’d beat em up for ya.” Sam laughed at that and stood reaching out for Dean’s hand. The Winchester took it and allowed himself to be lead to the table.

“You know, this is the worst service I have ever had in this place,” he grumbled looking around for a waitress. Sam shoved his shoulder to get his attention and handed him a pool stick. Dean turned back to the table and showed him how to rack up the balls.

“Hey guys!” Had both Winchester and Campbell turning away from the table. Jo bounced up with a tray under her arm and a little black apron tied around her waist. She leaned in and gave Sam a big hug.

“Hey, Jo. You work here?” Sam asked looking around.

“Only on weekends, gotta pay the rent!” she chirped back. “Couple’a beers?” Sam looked to Dean, slightly confused. Dean winked back.

“Yup, keep em comin’, doll.” Jo smiled furtively and whipped around so fast her hair fanned out.

“You got it!” Was called over her shoulder as she walk-jogged back to the bar. By the time she came back with a couple long necks for the boys Dean was plastered against Sam’s back as they leaned against the pool table, stick in Sam’s hand. He was showing the kid how to line up the balls and simultaneously rubbing against his crack. Sam shoved up when Jo put the bottles on their table.

“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account.” Sam’s face turned a bit red and he hid behind his hair. Dean scowled at the little blonde, who was unaffected and just smirked at him.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Never so busy I gotta miss a free show,” she said winking at Sam when he peeked at her out of the corner of his eye. Dean shoved her gently, but she got the idea and trotted off.

The guys fell into the game, Dean continuing to give Sam pointers here and there. By their third one the kid finally beat him, fairly, and offered to make a wager. They were a few beers in each and Sam was a lightweight, swaying slightly on his feet. Dean grinned wolfishly.

“What’s the bet then, Sam?”

~*~

“Someone actually wants to keep that nephew of yours around, eh?” Crowley just grunted his response. “And your brother wants more for his hand. Is this another one of his get-rich-quick schemes? I’m always on board for one of those. Samuel seems to make everyone money but himself.” This time a bark of laughter.

“Yes, my dear brother has a gift. He tries to gain his fortune while making everyone around him rich. I have a job for you.” Crowley just seemed to have this maner of speaking that made him always sound bored.

“Course you do. You never call me to chat. Who’s the mark?” Crowley heard shuffling papers.

“Winchester. That’s the boy who is planning to marry our simple little moose. Singer is the old man. Dean Winchester and Robert Singer. Seems the uncle owns Singer Salvage, where the boy is now. The dowry they offered is well enough, but if what I’m feeling is correct they have a lot more to give.” Crowley listed off the dowry offer and chuckled at Azazel’s low whistle.

“That’s a lot for a kid you claim isn’t so bright and can’t really do anything,” Azazel now sounded a bit skeptical.

“Yes, well. Apparently they want him, for some reason. So there’s really no chance a reasonable counter offer won’t be accepted. Find out what they are sitting on and I’ll be able to cut you off a nice sized chunk, yes?”

“Yeah, sure Crowley. I’ll get it done. May have to travel to Sioux Falls for it, though.” Crowley rolled his eyes and huffed into the phone.

“I doubt you getting on a plane is going to help your research, but if you must travel you know the drill. Half up front the rest plus a bonus when you deliver.” The goodbyes were impersonal and quick. Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes after setting down the phone. Now all he needed was to wait for Azazel to get results. Of course, Crowley was never a man without a plan. He picked his phone back up and punched in a familiar number.

“Hello, Nick. Are you still interested in adding to your harem?”

~*~

Sam and Dean all but stumbled out of the bar, hand in hand, laughing at the tops of their lungs. Sam has having a difficult time navigating the parking lot and found himself being tugged along behind his boyfriend.

“Are you my boyfriend?” His laughter stopped and his eyebrows came together at the thought. Dean’s laughter also stopped, but he kept pulling Sam along to find the Impala.

“Ya know, I don’t really know. I mean, this is our first freaking date, and I already asked your father if I could marry you.” Then a thought occurred to him and he grinned to himself as he dropped Sam’s hand and pulled the silver ring off his right hand. Once they found the car Dean turned to face the younger man.

“Sammy,” he said as he dropped to a knee. Drunk Sam had to interrupt of course.

“What are you doing? Did you drop something?”

“No, shut the fuck up for a second! Sammy, I think you’re really cool, and stuff. I know we’re doing this all kinds of out of order, but I’d like to ask anyway. Would you marry me?” Dean held up the ring and watched a bunch of emotions pass over Sam’s face as he tried to process what was happening in his foggy brain. Then he burst out laughing.

Dean frowned, looked at the ring, looked back at Sam. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“You sent a letter to my father with an amount of money on it. Then you got me drunk for the first freaking time in my life. Now you’re proposing? Oh, Dean, you’re my hero!” Sam grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him up to stand. He laid an exaggerated kiss on Dean’s lips and held up his right hand.

Dean grinned like a loon and slipped the ring on Sam’s finger, almost. It was a little too small. But Sam wouldn’t let him take it back and instead framed Dean’s face with his hands and kissed him again. Dean hummed approvingly.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Sam said softly against the older man’s lips. Dean ran his hands up Sam’s chest to settle one on the side of his neck and the other up into his hair. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and fumbled with the door handle to the back seat behind him. When he finally got the door open and pulled Dean away from the car, threw the door open all the way and pushed his fiance down onto the seat.

Then he chuckled, thinking he really liked the sound of that word.

Sam crawled into the backseat above Dean and kissed him again. Dean grinned against his lips and slipped his hands down to the waistband of Sam’s jeans, dipping his fingers inside and pulling on the denim a bit. Sam hummed as he ran his lips along Dean’s jaw and down his neck. On his way back up he nibbled at the sensitive patch of skin behind the older man’s ear.

“What do you want?” he whispered against Dean’s neck, his warm breath tickling slightly. Dean groaned under him as he flicked the button on Sam’s jeans lose.

“I wanna put your cock in my mouth,” Dean said as he moved his head to capture Sam’s lips again. The kids hands were on either side of Dean’s head, holding him up so he wasn’t crushing him. Dean’s fingers were working the zipper quickly to shove Sam’s pants down under his ass.

“That sounds like it could be fun.” Sam moved his hips up so Dean could shove his jeans down then ground his erection against Dean’s thigh. Both moaned at the heated contact. Dean leaned into the kiss, trying to push Sam up so he could shift around. Once Sam was sitting on the seat with his back against the door Dean backed up to look him in the eye.

“Ever had a blowjob before?” His eyebrow quirked up and a flirty smirk on his lips.

“Dude, you’re the first person I’ve even kissed.” Oh, yeah. Both eyebrows shot up at the memory of that.

“Well, shit. I am going to be introducing you to a whole new world, Sammy boy.” Sam grinned and pulled Dean in for another kiss.

“Yeah, get to it,” he said between nips at Dean’s lips. Dean hummed again and wrapped a hand around Sam’s impressive girth. Then he dipped his head licked at the tip of the younger man’s cock.

“Next time, we do this in a bed, so I can see you.” Dean tilted his head so he could look up at Sam with one eye. The kids lids were half closed and he was staring down at Dean like he’d hung the moon.

“Yeah, alright. Whatever you say, just, please, do that again.” His chest was rising and falling with his quick small breaths. Dean grunted something that might have been a ‘fuck yeah’ Sam couldn’t hear through the roaring in his ears.

When warm wet lips surrounded the tip Sam threw his head back against the window and moaned. Dean applied the slightest suction, wanting to go slow and drag this out. He hollowed his lips and moved down to slowly take Sam’s length into his mouth. He relished in the full body twitches and deep sounds coming from above him.

“Holy shit, Dean!” He hummed with Sam’s cockhead in the back of his throat, earning him another wordless shout. The older man rubbed his tongue on the underside of Sam’s cock and started bobbing his head slowly. He hummed again at the feeling of Sam’s fingers raking through his hair and scratching over his scalp.

Sam gripped the short blonde strands in his fingers and started rocking his hips up and forward into Dean’s eager mouth. The Winchester hummed his approval, encouraging Sam to do what he wanted. He knew the kid was getting close when his hips stuttered a few times and a low whine started in his throat.

“Fuck, Dean. I’m gonna come,” he said pressing his back into the door a little harder and stilling his hips. Dean picked up the pace with his mouth and felt Sam’s balls tighten slightly against his chin just before Sam yelled his name and salty spend hit his tongue. He swallowed and kept moving as he worked Sam through his orgasm.

By the time he was done Dean sat up with a shit eating grin on his face. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, spit or come or something, and sat back on his heels.

“So, was that okay?” he asked cheekily. Sam looked at him incredulously.

“What the fuck kinda question is that?” he asked reaching out to pull Dean in for a kiss by the front of his shirt. Sam shoved his tongue in Dean’s mouth, tasting himself and humming into the other man’s lips. “Your turn.”

Dean shook his head and pulled away. “We can do that at home. I sobered up enough to drive. Let’s get out of here.” Before Sam could answer he’d pulled away and rolled himself over the top of the bench seat.

“You gonna stay back there or come sit with me?” Sam grinned and fumbled his way over the same seat. It was a little more difficult for him. He was taller than Dean and had less room to maneuver. But he made it, even if he did get laughed at.

The whole ride home they held hands on the seat between them. Sam spun the silver ring on his finger with his thumb while he looked out the window. Occasionally turning to peek at Dean out of the corner of his eye.

Not for the first time he dared to wonder if they could really make this work. It seemed so far fetched. Meeting the way they did, falling in love, being compatible. It was like a fucking fairy tale.

~*~

“I already told you, I am not interested.”

“Yes, well, that was before. Before we knew the boy was a carrier. Any smart businessman can see an opportunity here.”

“What are you proposing, Crowley?” The conman smiled, knowing he had his mark on the hook. Now he just had to reel him in.

“These days babies are in high demand, as I’m sure you know. Take the kid, tell his father his debt is settled, keep him knocked up as often as you like and bank on the offspring. They don’t have to be your brood. The kids good looking enough it shouldn’t be too difficult to find someone to fuck him.” The silence on the other end wasn’t worrisome. Crowley had all the time in the world.

“An interesting proposal, for sure. You want me to forgive your brother’s debt and take his son as another husband. What’s in it for you? Why would you orchestrate something like this for Samuel?” Crowley shrugged at the phone.

“The desire I have to see my family succeed.” Nick scoffed on the other end of the line.

“Right. What do you want?”

“A finder’s fee and a small percentage of what you get for the kid’s kids. Nothing exceptional that anyone else would ask for.” Nick grunted into the phone. Crowley could hear tapping of keys as Nick typed something into his computer.

“I’d like to meet with him. Bring him to me as soon as you can. We’ll discuss the details in person.”

“Very good. I’ll fetch the lad myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you GISHWHES? I formed a team this weekend with a couple girls in our watch party group. We need 12 more players! Check it out and if you're looking for a serious team message me for details.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my awesome beta, lovesammy. Thank you to everyone who has commented so far, it makes me smile. Thank you to everyone who has kudo'd, bookmarked, or subscribed. The fact you like what I write makes me happy and want to write more! :D

Sam woke with a splitting headache before he even opened his eyes. He groaned and rolled onto his side which, turns out, makes hangovers worse. He literally felt like his eyes were going to explode. When he finally mustered up the courage to try and open his lids he had no idea where he was.

“Well, nice of you to join the living, Sam.” He craned his neck to look at Bobby over the arm of the couch, causing another bolt of pain through his head and neck.

“Oh, man. I am never drinking again.” His words were slurred. “Fuck, am I still drunk?”

“Wouldn't be surprised. Have any idea when you boys stumbled in?” Sam squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slowly, trying not to make it mad again.

“Try one in the morning. Me and Charlie were worried sick!” Sam opened and squeezed his eyes shut again and laid back down.

“Yeah, you take it easy today and no more taking off without telling anyone. Don't let that idjit get you into trouble.” With that the old man stood and went to the kitchen.

“Bobby?” Sam called weakly. He heard the man shuffle back to the kitchen door. “Where's Dean?”

“Workin.” Sam groaned at the thought.

“How's he even up?”

~*~

Dean was humming along with ACDC while changing the oil of the sedan that was dropped off that morning. The music was loud enough he didn’t hear Charlie walking up behind him. He did, however, feel it when she socked him on the shoulder.

“Hey! Ow!” he said rubbing his bare arm and scrunching his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes and smacked the CD player propped on the workbench. He opened his mouth to protest the treatment of his music when she shoved a finger in his face.

“You, mister, are in a large amount of trouble as it is. I think it best if you don’t speak.” A sheepish smile worked it’s way onto his face as he looked at the toes of his scuffed boots.

“Sorry-”

“Ah! Don’t. Speak. That stunt you pulled last night, never again. Do you hear me? Until that boy is married, to you or anyone else, he is my responsibility. His integrity must be kept in tact. He has to stay safe. I need to know where he is at all times. What if something had happened? What if one or both of you were hurt? Bar fight, car accident, a freaking mosquito with a virus. I don’t know, I don’t care. You wanna go on a date you run it by me first. Got it?”

By the time she was done her finger was jabbing Dean in the chest. His eyes were wide, and focused on her. Dumbly he nodded his head at her question, not able to form words. For someone so short she was pretty fierce. Redheads, right?

Then she smiled sweetly, thanked him, and told him to meet her and Bobby in the kitchen when he had a chance. She turned on her heel and marched right out the bay door toward the house. Dean shook his head and turned back to the car, not sure where it was he left off at. After a few minutes he pulled the shop rag out of his back pocket and wiped his hands before tossing it onto the engine.

~*~

“So, Kevin says someone’s been digging around in our financials. He isn’t exactly sure who, they were pretty damn sneaky about it. But he’s sure there’s been activity.” Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“Okay, that’s not necessarily anything. Is there anything missing?” Bobby held up a hand and shook his head.

“No, but Sam’s father sent the agency a message yesterday. He wants to negotiate the offer. He says his boy is worth more,” Charlie spoke cautiously. She was well aware of how Dean felt about the dowry in the first place and didn’t expect him to take this very well.

Dean craned his neck to look out the kitchen doorway.

“Sam went for a walk,” Bobby supplied knowingly.

“So, you’re telling me this guy dug into our financials and is trying to squeeze more out of this deal? This is absolutely fucking crazy, you know that right? That man doesn’t even like Sam, he’s using him. And if we don’t give him what he wants he can just snap him back and give him to someone else.” His voice had risen as he spoke and he ended up yelling at nobody in particular and looking for something to throw.

“Dean, I need you to stay calm here. We can work through this, the agency is on the carrier's side in these situations. If Sam wants to stay and his father turns down the dowry he can appeal and if his father chooses to stand his ground he will get nothing if Sam wins. However, through this process Sam will be removed from your home and held at the agency until the council decides what to do.” Dean rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut.

“What a fucking nightmare. Don’t tell Sam okay?” Bobby and Charlie shared a look but both agreed.

~*~

Crowley whistled a wordless tune as he sauntered down the hallway toward his brother’s office. He didn’t bother to knock and let himself in closing the door behind him. Samuel looked up from his computer screen, a slightly annoyed look on his face.

“Come on in,” he said dryly. Crowley smiled and tipped his head down.

“Thank you, don’t mind if I do.” He sat himself down in a chair across from the desk as Samuel huffed a humorless laugh and shook his head. He tapped out a few more lines to an email and closed the window. The internet wasn’t quite what it used to be, but well off people had computers and connection. Even if email and web services were a bit archaic.

“I assume you’ve let the agency know you wish to come up with a counter offer?” Samuel nodded and turned to rest both elbows on his desk. Crowley smiled and produced a thick envelope from the inside pocket of his coat.

“Very good. Here is the financial report and the list of assets. There are many nice things in here. You should take a few days to consider it carefully and arrange your letter to perfection. Don’t worry about the time, they’ll take you more seriously if you make them sweat it out.” Samuel nodded again and took the envelope.

“This is a lot of paper,” he said mostly to himself. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well. Like I said. They have a lot of stuff. If that’s all for me I’m going to be taking a trip this week to see a friend. Won’t be gone too long, but I will also be unreachable.” Samuel waved him off without really listening as he went over the Winchester financial report. Crowley smirked and grunted. Easiest con ever. He’d made so much money off his own idiot brother.

Sam’s uncle made his way, leisurely, back to his room to finish packing. He’d take one of Samuel’s vehicles and hopefully be at Singer Salvage in a couple of days. He wasn’t quite sure if he was going to try and take Sam quietly or if he should announce his presence but he had plenty of time to think it over.

His meeting with Nick Morningstar wasn’t for a couple of weeks. Plenty of time to get the kid and head to the drop point. He was sure Nick would take Sam, no problem. He had quite the collection of carriers already and was always willing to add another quality man to his broodstock. Crowley smiled to himself as he pulled out of the driveway and headed west. He’d given his brother enough to keep him occupied for a few days, by the time Samuel got this counter offer together and sent it to the agency Sam would be in the wind.

~*~

Shortly after their conversation Dean was out the front door with his keys. Gravel kicked up behind Baby as he careened down the driveway. Bobby watched him go from the porch, shaking his head as he turned to go back inside.

Dean knew Bobby knew where he was headed. Except this time the old man was, more likely than not, wrong about why. Luckily The Roadhouse wasn’t far from Singer Salvage, and he was in no mood to be taking his sweet time. He pulled into the empty lot, parking sideways in a couple of the spaces he stormed up the porch and through the swinging doors.

“Ash!”

“Well, good afternoon to you as well,” Ellen drawled from behind the bar. She was stocking bottles into the cooler preparing for the evening crowd. “You back so soon? We aren’t serving yet.”

“No, Ellen. Sorry, I need to speak with Ash, is he around?” She wiped the wet rings left by the condensation on the bottles from the bar top and motioned her head toward the back office. Dean nodded his thanks and strutted across the room. His pace and stance made her eyebrows go up in concern and she followed slowly.

“Hey, Ash, you up?” Dean called as he walked down the dimly lit hall. The office door was open and the room empty, so he kept on down to Ash’s room. He knocked once and tried the knob. Locked. He pounded the worn wood a few more times calling out for Jo’s brother.

Ellen and Jo had both shown up and were standing a few paces back down the hall, curious as to Dean’s rare mood and pushy behavior.

“Easy, big guy. Calm your tits. What’s going on?” Ash sounded and definitely looked like Dean had woken him up. The door cracked open enough to see disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. He ran a hand down the half of his face they could see. Dean took in his appearance and shot his eyes back to the ceiling.

“Dammit, man! Get dressed! I need a favor.”

“Listen, Cochise. You come barging in here, hollering at me, demanding things and now you want me to get dressed, too?” His stoner boy drawl dragged out a few of the words and made Dean roll his eyes.

“Sorry, dude, but this is kinda important.” Dean looked at the pair of women over his shoulder, both had looks of concern on their faces. “It’s about Sam. We may need your help.” At this the genius bar boy perked a bit. He hadn’t met Sam yet but Jo worked at the auto shop and the bar so chances were most people had heard about him by now.

“Why didn’t you say so? Come on it, tell me what you need.” Dean shook his head and held the door mostly closed.

“First. Pants,” he said earning himself small smiles from the women. Ellen whipped the bar towel off her shoulder and started back down the hall. Jo didn’t budge. Dean kinda shifted his eyes around and raised his brows at her. She smirked.

“C’mon. You don’t think I’ll get the information from Ash later?”

“Dude, you know she can totally make me crack. Just let her in.” At the sound of Ash’s voice Dean turned back to see him standing in the doorway. He had on torn jeans and an ACDC shirt with the sleeves cut off. Dean reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Fine, but you both have to keep this quiet. I really don’t want Sam finding out. And people like to talk around here.” The siblings nodded eagerly and disappeared into Ash’s room.

~*~

Sam bypassed Bobby in the garage as he made his way back to the house. The older man seemed to be deep in his work so he decided not to bother with him. Charlie was at the kitchen table going over some paperwork when he went to the fridge to get a drink. She smiled at him warmly.

“Hey, Sam. Wanna have a seat? There are some things I need to let you know.” He looked around and nodded, sitting across from here.

“Where’s Dean? I didn’t see him in the garage.”

“Dean went to run errands for a little while, he should be back soon. This mostly concerns you. I need you to be aware of what’s going on so that if the time comes you can make an informed decision about your own future.” Again Sam looked a bit confused as he picked at a splinter of wood on the table top. Then he just nodded.

“Okay, so you father received the offer. And without any more details on the subject I have to inform you he has decided to make a counter offer. He has two weeks to submit said offer to the agency, then Dean and Bobby will have two weeks to accept or go back with something else. Do you understand?” Sam had finally looked up at her halfway through.

“He can do that? He can demand more?” His voice shook a bit with worry but he couldn’t be bothered with his pride right then. He was suddenly terrified. Charlie reached across the table to grip his hands in hers.

“No. He can make a counter offer. They are considered suggestions, not demands. Dean can reject the counteroffer if he wants to.” Sam’s eyes slid closed and he slumped in his chair.

“So, if Dean doesn’t like what my father is requesting he can cancel out on the deal? You know, forgive my frankness, but us carriers seem to be getting the shit end of the stick at every turn.” He moved to stand, but Charlie held him fast.

“No. And yes,” she said looking up thoughtfully. “He can refuse, but that isn’t the end of it. If your father decides to pull you you can appeal. The agency will review the offers, all of them, and come to a decision. If they find the dowry suitable and come to the conclusion your family is being greedy with it they can decide in your favor. You may stay with Dean and your family gets nothing.

“It’s a way for the agency to encourage cooperation between families and make sure no one is taken advantage of.” Sam seemed to consider the information and nodded, a little more sated.

“Okay, so Dad’s going to add or replace things on the list and Dean can either approve or deny the addendums.” Charlie nodded. “And, of course, my father would want more. This is so fucked up.” Charlie gave a pitying look, which only made things worse.

Sam rose from the table and grabbed a cooler from in the pantry. He started packing it with water bottles, beer, cheeses, crackers and fruit. Charlie eyed him curiously from the table, but didn’t say anything.

“When Dean get’s home can you tell him to come find me? He’ll know where to look.” Charlie nodded and watched him go.

“Uh, Sam?” Sam stopped in the doorway but didn’t turn to look at her. “Can I know where to look?” He shrugged, still not turning.

“Nowhere specific. I’m just going to wander until I find a nice spot to sit. And think.” Charlie nodded but without seeing her Sam had no idea if she bought it or not.

“Be safe.” And he was gone.

~*~

“Wow, bro, for someone who wasn’t even happy about being in the program you sure are balls to the wall for the first carrier you meet up with.” Dean rolled his eyes at Ash’s colorful choice of words and gave Jo the stink eye.

Her eyebrows went up and a satirical smile graced her face.

“Someone has a big mouth.”

“Don’t be sour at her, everyone knows you and can pretty much guess that you’re going to be difficult whenever you can.” Jo covered her mouth and a giggle at that.

“Can you help or not?” Ash finally turned to look at him, a mock hurt expression over his face.

“Can I help? Of course I can help. Looks right here like some private dick, Azazel was looking into your finances. All of your holdings. He was all up in Bobby’s business as well. It’s difficult to tell exactly who he was looking for, but…,” he trailed off as he tapped more keys and scanned the multi pages of information. Dean waited patiently, picking at a fray in his jeans.

“Here! Right here. His phone records show the same number a bunch of times in the past few days. Crowley Campbell. Same last name as your betrothed.” Dean’s eyebrows knitted together and he leaned forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees.

“Sounds familiar. Sam might have mentioned that name before. But if we’re working with his father on this deal why is his uncle involved?”

“Well now, if you’re really nice to me for say, the next two months and you say pretty please I can jack into Crowley’s phone. I can tell you where he is and has been. I can tell you who he’s been talking to. I can even listen in on phone calls and intercept text messages.” Ash leaned back in his chair and turned to face Dean, steepling his fingers together. Dean stared at him a moment and his eyes widened.

“You’re freaking serious? You want me to say please?” Jo stifled another laugh that Dean didn’t bother acknowledging.

“Pretty please,” Ash emphasized pointing at the other man, “And you have to be nice.” Dean muttered something about God and put his face in his hands. After rubbing vigorously for a few seconds he sat up and took a deep breath.

“Ash, would you pretty please track Crowley’s phone for me? I would really appreciate it. And I will try and be nicer to you on a regular basis forever.” Ash, mockingly, dropped his jaw and looked at Jo in amazement.

“Forever? Dude, so much more than I asked for. Can I hug you?” He started to rise from his chair and Dean held up his hands and leaned back.

“Please don’t!” This time Jo laughed out loud and didn’t bother trying to seem apologetic about it.

“This is going to be the best partnership of all time. We’ll be like Zorro and Tonto. Batman and Robin. We’ll be like Sonny and Cher!” Dean again returned his face to his hands and groaned deep. This whole thing might have been a mistake.

He left shortly after that. After swearing both of them to secrecy and having Ash promise to call him if anything came up. He needed to get home and check on Sam. He also had a few cars to finish. Checking the position of the sun told him it was about three in the afternoon and it might be a long night in the garage.

The drive home was a bit slower. He took his time to organize his thoughts on what Ash had learned in the short time he’d been fishing. The man doing the research was Azazel. They still weren’t a hundred percent on who, but Sam’s uncle fit the bill. Hopefully Ash would be able to record some conversations and hijack some texts. They could start putting pieces together.

Suddenly he was feeling less rushed about getting Sam’s father’s counter offer. He now wanted the man to take all the time he was allotted so they could try and sort this mess out. He had a feeling that if he could prove they were being blackmailed or something their case would be stronger. Not that he wanted Sam to go through that. He just wanted Sam to stay.

When he pulled into the driveway Charlie was reading on the porch and Bobby was in the garage. He felt a little bad about how much time his uncle was spending on cars these days. Bobby usually handled all the paperwork and not much of the physical work. He’d been cutting Dean a lot of slack so he could spend more time with Sam. And while it was appreciated he still thought he was taking advantage.

However, even with those thoughts he was fully prepared to let Bobby do his thing so he could go find Sam. He really needed to touch him right now. Some physical reassurance the kid was still with him and safe.

“Hey, Charlie. Sam around?” She looked up and smiled when he got to the steps.

“He packed some food and drinks and said to go find him. You’d know where to look.” He smiled back easily, thinking of their secret spot. It kinda made him feel like a little kid.

“Yeah, I know what that means.” She hummed and narrowed her eyes. Proof that Sam wasn’t completely honest about where he’d be.

“You treat him nice, Winchester. This isn’t over yet.” Dean gave her a serious, hard look and nodded once in acknowledgement. He went inside to change, still covered in oil and grease from working that morning, then set out to find Sam. He’d been gone a few hours and had no idea how long the kid had been out on his own.

As Dean made his way through the scrapyard toward the trail through the woods his mind wandered to their mission. He wanted to be clear headed enough not to tip off Sam, but wasn't sure he was all that good at acting. The trail was still plenty lit by the sun so it didn't take long for him to cover the ground. What surprised him was the music.

The closer he got to the abandoned mine the louder the music got. He smiled when he recognized Zeppelin and hurried his pace a bit. He didn't bother to announce himself, just wandered in and took in the newly added stuff. Sam had hauled a cassette player out here, it was hooked up to some sort of box. And there was Christmas lights hung around the ceiling.

“Hey, you made it!” A cheerful voice greeted him. He turned to see Sam entering the cave. How had he missed him outside? Sam had a huge, proud, grin on his face and walked right up to Dean, wrapping him in a hug. Dean was also smiling when he pulled away. Then the younger man looked a bit nervous, so Dean had some pity. He leaned in and landed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Heya, Sammy.” The grin turned goofy. “So, what is all this?” He asked sweeping an arm around to indicate the electricity. Back to the proud grin.

“I trussed it up a bit. I hope Bobby won't mind, but I kinda built a small solar panel. I put it at the top of a tree close by. The cable runs to the batteries in the box to store the electricity. It won't run all night, but it'll last for a while.” By the time Sam was done he looked back and noticed the surprised look on his fiancées face.

“You built a solar panel?” Dean's asked, hands on his hips. Sam nodded, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.

“Okay, so you build this panel, cause yeah why not? Then you climb a tree to get more sun. Rigged these car batteries to store excess power to use later. Then, with all of that you put on Led Zeppelin?” Sam must have misunderstood his tone because he started to look a little shy, but nodded. “Holy fuckin shit, Sam. You're a freaking genius!”

A broad smile broke out over the man's face as he searched Dean's for any sign of jest. Instead of poke fun Dean licked his lips and slowly pulled Sam into his arms.

“You're kinda amazing. You know that right? If I had any idea it was going to be like this I wouldn't have fought Bobby so hard on it.” Sam's eyes widened a bit at the confession.

“You, didn't want me. Here. Did you?” Dean took a deep breath and figured honesty was going to be the best policy here.

“I didn't want some kid coming in here trying to convince me to buy him. And I gotta say, that is not at all the experience I've had so far.” Sam smiled again and ducked his head to rest on Dean's shoulder. Dean hugged him tighter and turned his face into Sam's neck, brushing his lips over soft skin.

The older man felt the kid’s breath hitch in his throat at the contact and smiled against the warm flesh of his taut neck. Dean hummed and sucked a small patch of skin between his lips to worry with his teeth. Sam gripped the soft shirt under his fingers tightly in his hands and tried pulling the other man closer. He shifted his hips against Dean’s, feeling their erections brush and earning himself a groan.

Dean reached up and pulled Sam’s face to line up with his own. “Fuck, Sam. The things I want to do to you.” Then they were kissing. Hard. Teeth clicked together as lips moved in and out of the way. Neither of them realized they were moving and had no idea who did it, but Sam’s back was against the dirt wall and he was still pulling Dean in closer.

“Just fucking do it! Charlie said we could challenge my father if he tries to take me,” Sam all but panted in Dean’s face. Which seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Dean’s hands pushed Sam’s head back against the wall and steely green eyes were narrowed and staring him in the face.

“Charlie told you what?” It took Sam a second to gain control of himself, he’d been teetering on that edge so hard.

“She said my father was trying to negotiate. She said that if he tried to get out of the deal and make me come home I could appeal. That if your offer seemed fair that I could win the appeal and come home to you. My father would get nothing and we could stay together.” Anger flared up in Dean’s chest. She wasn’t supposed to say anything, dammit.

Then he was moving. Out into the air that was cooler since the sun went down. The sky was still painted hues of pink and orange, making it easy to navigate the woods. He barely heard Sam crashing behind him, calling his name. Eventually the kid gave up trying to get Dean’s attention and just followed behind, worried about what set the man off.

Dean didn’t remember leaving the woods or making his way through the scrap yard. He burst through the front door much like Garth had the day of the barbeque, earning himself a shout from Bobby.

“Where is Charlie?” Dean yelled scanning the living room and kitchen.

“She went to town to grab a few things. What the hell’s wrong with you, boy?” Dean angrily swiped a hand through his hair as he paced back and forth in the front entry way. Sam lingered on the porch, not wanting to get in the way.

“She was supposed to keep her damned mouth shut, that’s what. I didn’t want Sam to worry about his father’s meddling with the dowry.” He stopped and stared out the front door at Sam’s silhouetted figure.

“Yeah, alright. Damned idjit. Sam! Go on back to your cabin and have a shower before dinner, yeah?” Sam nodded but hesitantly left the porch. He kept checking behind him as he made his way to his and Dean’s house, he couldn’t help but smile thinking of it like that. It quickly faded wondering why Dean had been so upset over Charlie talking to him.

“Sometimes, boy, you need to pull your head out of your ass and think about the bigger picture.” Dean turned to shoot Bobby an incredulous look.

“What the hell does that even mean?” he asked flinging his hands out. “She wasn’t supposed to say anything. He said after this is over he wasn’t even going to have contact with his family anymore. As far as I’m concerned that can start right damn now.” Bobby just shook his head and tried counting to ten.

“Yeah, well, not according to the law. Charlie and Sam have to have a certain level of communication. She is obligated to keep him informed of the progress of the process. Did she tell him anything other than about his dad?” Dean deflated rather quickly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“He didn’t mention anything else.”

“And it’s probably something he would bring up, right?” Now the older Winchester looked at the floor a little sheepishly. Instead of speaking he just nodded. “This kid’s got your freaking panties in a twist, son. Get ahold of yourself.” Bobby turned to go back to cooking dinner, Dean scowling at his back.

The meal was almost ready and Charlie and Sam were due any minute. Dean was finishing up with setting the table when his phone buzzed from his pocket. He exhaled lazily and almost ignored it, but quickly shoved that idea aside to at least check who it was.

Ash.

“Hey man, anything yet?” he asked shuffling silverware around the plates.

“Dude, you need to get over here, right the fuck now man. This is bad, man, really, really bad!” Dean was out the front door with his keys before Ash even finished speaking. Bobby hollering at him from the doorway. Charlie and Sam came out their front door just in time to see Dean peel out, once again, spitting gravel at them.

“He’ll be back. Come in for dinner.” Bobby disappeared into the house. Charlie shrugged at Sam and followed him in, complementing the smells right away. Sam watched the taillights fade out of sight and toed the dirt. Thinking this was all his fault. He’d missed Dean’s cool down while he was getting dressed. He had no idea this didn’t have to do with his slip about Charlie.

For a second he thought about just going to bed and pretending, for a while, this wasn’t his life. After deciding he didn’t want to worry his counselor he made his way into the kitchen wondering if he was always going to screw things up.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! Thanks for reading, enjoy!.

The parking lot at the bar was about half full. He didn’t have the luxury of leaving his Baby right up front this time. As he stalked through the swinging doors he pocketed his keys and moved right toward the hallway in the back. He ignored all shouts of his name and marched right up to Ash’s door, not bothering to knock. Who cared if the guy was naked?

“Dean! God, that was fast. Here, sit. You have to listen to this.” Dressed, thankfully, in his trademark torn jeans and sleeveless shirt Ash was sitting at his desk. Four computer monitors buzzed around him and he began pulling up various windows on each.

Dean sat at the chair Ash motioned to leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What’s going on man, what’d you find?”

“This Crowley character is definitely shady. I just don’t know the extent yet, but it’s gross. My little program here pinged when he received a phone call from one, Nick Morningstar.” Dean's eyebrows knit together as he mouthed the name, searching his brain for why it was familiar. As Ash pulled up the file he let Dean try and figure it all out.

“Morningstar? Morning… Wait a fucking second. Morningstar? As in the man who single handedly brought down all organized crime after the virus disappeared?” Ash didn’t look at him but raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

“Listen.”

Then a crackling came through the speakers and a window with a black metric table showed green spikes of vibrations.

“Crowley.”

“Listen, some shit went down. I’m going to need to move the meeting back a week, but I’ll take the kid for certain.”

“Finally come to your senses?”

“Shut the fuck up, Crowley, I have no time for your games. It’s been a shitty couple of days and I’m not in the mood. Same meeting spot. I need him in pristine condition, got me? If Campbell is harmed in any way your percentage on his offspring will be lowered indefinitely.”

There was a beat of silence that had Dean tearing his eyes away from the screen to look at Ash, as if asking if this were real. Then Crowley seemed to pull himself together.

“All will be ask you asked for. Sam will be worth every penny.”

Dean wasn’t sure who hung up first but the line went dead without anyone exchanging pleasantries. What the fuck did he just listen to? The room was silent for a while more while the Winchester tried to process the information.

“Do me a favor and keep this to yourself? I know you know what just went down is incredibly illegal, I just need time to think.” Ash held up a hand and closed his eyes as he tipped his head forward.

“Hey, amigo. Everything you see here is basically illegal. My equipment is hella better than most law enforcement in the world. I'm not looking to out myself.” Dean nodded, vowing to process all that later.

“Alright, so Crowley’s coming for Sam. Maybe Morningstar is setting a trap for him. I need to talk to Bobby. I don't think I can let Charlie in on this.” Ash nodded even though he knew Dean was talking to himself.

“Dude, really. Just let me know what you need.” Dean smiled, a genuine smile, and nodded before leaving without another word. Ash sighed and sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. He sat for a while, staring at his screens and contemplating his next move.

With a sudden thought he shot forward and tapped furiously at the keys. Different windows popped up on different screens with all kinds of information. If Dean was going to be able to form a decent and workable plan he'd need all the information he could get.

First, Ash used the signal from the phones to track both Crowley and Nick. Ash knew more about this Morningstar guy that most people did. He didn't cut down on crime. He took over it. All of it. He was the man behind the curtain in just about everything illegal. While looking all shiny on the outside.

By the time he was finished he was tracking the phones from cell towers, recording conversations, and intercepting texts. There was monitoring in all of Samuel’s, Crowley’s, and Nick’s accounts. With all that in place he set to work with a plan of his own.

~*~

When Dean pulled the Impala in front of the house he didn't notice the kid sitting on the porch. He put his hands together, his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, and rested his forehead against his knuckles. Lost in thought about what was coming, he was startled when the passenger door was yanked open.

Sam sat down on the bench seat and closed the door, never looking at his fiancé. Dean sat still watching, waiting for Sam to say something. He fidgeted with his fingers a bit and took a couple deep breaths.

“I'm sorry, about what I said. I never meant to make you mad at me. And if you-”

“Stop, Sam. Stop.” Dean held up his hands and took a deep breath. Sam pulled in on himself, hunching his shoulders and ducking his head. Dean looked at him curiously, and it only took him a second to figure out he thought Dean was mad.

“You didn't do anything wrong, Sam,” he said daring a hand on the kid's knee. He waited for Sam to look at him before continuing

“I asked Charlie not to say anything, I didn't realize she had to. I just didn't want you to worry. As long as you want to stay no one is going to make you leave.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before Sam launched himself across the seat, practically landing in Dean’s lap.

The older man chuckled a bit and hugged the kid to him. Sam nuzzled his nose into Dean’s collarbone and settled in, content to stay crammed in the car.

“Hey, wanna go for a walk?” Sam moved back just enough to look at Dean’s face. The man wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. Sam grinned back and slid his hands from Dean’s back to his waist. Without warning, and with no indication ever this could possibly happen, he dug his fingers into the Winchester’s sides and started to tickle him.

Dean’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as his entire body involuntarily jerked toward the door to try and get away. Sam was persistent, though. And a big guy. He followed Dean’s movements and managed to trap him against the door. Dean was gasping for air and trying not to laugh, he didn’t want to encourage this behavior. Sam couldn’t help but to giggle.

“Stop! Sam- Fuck! Stop, Sam! Dammit! What is, ah! Wrong with you!”

Sam’s fingers finally stilled and he leaned in to capture Dean’s lips. The older man hummed against his lips, happy with the change. He leaned back into the door and wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, pulling him closer.

“We, should, get, out, of, here,” Dean whispered between chaste kisses. This time Sam hummed and reluctantly sat back. He scooted across the seat and opened the door, excited to get to their cave. Dean hopped out his door and hustled around Baby’s front.

“Anything you want to bring to the Batcave tonight? Maybe we can make a camping trip of it.” They walked side-by-side toward the front porch, headed to the kitchen for some provisions.

“You said that before. You know there aren’t any bats in there right?” Dean stopped, his mouth agape. Sam took a couple more steps and when his fiance didn’t follow he turned a curious eye.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Dean deadpanned. Sam looked around, expecting some sort of joke, then shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“About what?”

“Oh, for the love-” Dean bent at the waist and made a show of mock-hyperventilating. Then stood and took a deep breath. “Batman, dude. The superhero? Had Alfred, the best sidekick ever!” Sam bit both lips between his teeth and shook his head.

“Yeah. This isn’t going to work out,” Dean said stalking past Sam and into the house. The kid stood in the dirt yard, bewildered. He was actually speechless. Had nothing to say about Dean’s outburst.

“What?” When he went inside Dean was rifling through a cabinet against the living room wall. Upon closer inspection he realized the man was shuffling through DVD’s. Old ones.

“Wow, dude. Do you have a player for those?” Dean never stopped moving.

“I can take my old laptop to the Batcave, you have to call it that from now on, and hook it up to your fancy solar-electro-panel. Or whatever. We can watch them on that.” Sam nodded.

“Cool. I’m gonna pack a cooler.” Dean waved him off absently, adding another DVD to the small stack. Sam shook his head with a humoring grin on his face and grabbed an old green metal cooler.

He went about adding ice and beer, then made a few sandwiches and grabbed some chips out of the pantry. The chips and a few random snacks went into an old canvas bag, the rest in the cooler. They could each carry one. Dean came in a few minutes after he was done with a backpack and a pretty large duffle bag.

“I guess I’ll carry both,” Sam said grinning at Dean’s full hands.

“Yeah, hold off on that.” Dean dropped his bags and went out the front door. Sam looked out the kitchen window, curious as to what he was up to now. There was the sound of a small motor out back. Soon enough Dean drove past the window in, what looked like, an old modified Gator. Sam left the kitchen with his cooler and bag to meet Dean out front.

“Got my own ride. It’ll take us most of the way there.” Sam smiled and put the food in the high bed of the 4x4. Dean jumped out, leaving it running, and grabbed his bags from the entry way.

“Should we tell Charlie and Bobby where we’re going?” Sam asked getting into the passenger seat.

“Naw, I got my phone. They can call when they’re worried. Else they’ll just tell us we can’t spend the night in the woods. And I don’t know about you, but I’m a grown ass man and don’t need to be told what to do!” Dean puffed his chest and tried to look intimidating. Sam just chuckled at him and slapped a hand on Dean’s thigh.

“Let’s go, thug life.”

~*~

Dean couldn’t get the golf cart too far into the woods, so they hiked from there. Sam carried the food, Dean carried his duffle bag and pack. By the time they arrived at the mine they were both a little winded.

“Lets sit for a second. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Dean said as he shoved the cooler toward the log and plopped down on it. He grabbed a beer and offered it to Sam, who shook his head and grabbed a water instead. Dean shrugged, popped off the cap, and chugged half the chilled drink.

“I’m gonna have to bring a chest or something down here so we can put the pillows and blankets in it while we’re not using them. It’ll help keep em clean. Maybe even some shelves or a desk or some shit.”

“Eloquent,” Sam muttered taking the seat next to Dean.

“I am a man of many words, Sam. You’ll see.” Dean finished the rest of his beer and went to the duffle.

“So what’d you bring?”

“Sleeping bags! All the comforts of home.” He pulled two rolled bags out of the duffle, that looked like it was all that was in it. Dean immediately went to work unrolling them and zipping them together to make one big one.

“We can probably just sleep on top, extra padding against the ground. And use one of these blankets to cover up with.”

“Excellent idea, Sammy. I knew there was a reason I was keeping you around.” Sam flipped him off and Dean laughed. Once the bedding was set up Dean brought his laptop over and set it on an overturned crate. He grabbed the first Batman movie from the backpack and put it in. Sam kicked off his boots and got comfortable on their bed, leaning against the wall.

Dean turned to find him with a goofy grin on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked settling in next to his fiance. Sam shook his head absently.

“We’re sitting on our bed, in our “Batcave”, watching movies. It’s just, really nice.” Dean just grinned back and slapped a hand down on Sam’s thigh, ignoring his usage of finger quotes.

“Okay, so this is the first Batman. I don’t have any of the original show or cartoons or anything, just the movies. So that’s what we’re going to focus on. Michael Keaton, 1989.”

Sam had to admit, Batman was pretty cool. And the actor, Michael something, wasn't that bad to look at. Dean was excited about sharing this part of himself with him, and that was his favorite part. The older man didn't say a word the entire movie, but Sam kept catching him staring.

He tried to ask Dean what was wrong, but Winchester shook his head and looked back at the screen. As the credits were rolling he looked to his right to find Dean staring again.

“What, dude?”

“Well, how was it?” He looked like some little kid, excited about a favorite toy. Sam nodded, pulling the corners of his lips down and trying to keep a straight face.

“It was alright.” Dean's jaw dropped as his eyes went wide.

“Alright? Just alright? I can't talk to you right now.” Dean rose off the sleeping bags to change the movie, but was pulled back against a strong chest. Sam kissed the side of his face, then down to his neck.

“I was kidding, it was pretty good.”

“Awesome!” Dean corrected enthusiastically. Sam huffed a laugh against his skin, causing him to break out in goosebumps.

“Awesome,” the younger man agreed. Dean shifted to the right and turned to his left so he could look more directly at the younger man.

“What was your favorite part?” The question was only strange because of the tone it was delivered in. Like he was trying to talk dirty and about Batman at the same time. Sam wanted to call him cute but figured that might be too far.

“Uh, I liked Bruise,” he said leaning in to kiss along Dean's jaw. “And Alfred was kinda badass for an old guy.” He ended up just under Dean's ear and nibbled the love roughly, earning himself a punched out groan.

“Yes, so badass.” His reply was breathy as he arched his back and reached a hand up to tangle in Sam's hair. He grabbed a fistful and pulled roughly, pleading and encouraging at once. So far Dean had taken most of the control over their, extra, activities. Sam was kinda enjoying being the instigator.

When Dean unbowed his back, laying on Sam's lap again the younger man ground his semi into the small of his back. He grinned and nipped a patch of skin between his teeth when Dean groaned and pressed more into him.

“Fuck, Sammy. We can't keep doing this, blowjobs and handjobs aren't going to be enough much longer.” Sam hummed in his ear and ran a hand up his chest to pinch and pull at a nipple. He fucking loved how Dean was responding to his touch.

“Yeah, about that. This whole time,” he paused for more kisses, “ all anyone has ever talked about is my virtue.” He bent his knees and spread his legs slightly allowing Dean to sink closer. Sam could feel the older man half heartedly attempt to room over and held tight. The hand that wasn't busy slipped down his belly to grip his hardon through his jeans.

“Oh, fuck!” Dean bucked up into his hand the best he could, seeming not to notice Sam's emphasis on the word “my”.

“Mmm,” Sam hummed low again. “That's the plan, Dean. No one seems all that concerned for your virtue.” Dean coughed and chuckled a bit.

“Baby, you showed up a little late in the game to be worrying about my virtue,” the older man said as he made another attempt to sit up. Sam showed off his strength a bit more and held him down. Then he bit into Dean’s earlobe, worrying the flesh between his teeth before pulling off.

“Kinda what I'm counting on.” Dean grunted in question. “Teach me to suck your cock.”

“Je-sus Christ, kid!” The Winchester’s hands immediately went to his belt and button, his hands visibly shaky. Sam huffed a laugh and continued nipping and teasing the soft skin of his neck and ears, not helping to ease Dean’s excitement at all. He did, finally, let Dean roll off his chest when he got his pants undone.

The older man shoved his jeans down to his knees and sat back against the wall next to Sam, gently stroking his cock.

“You coming?” he asked trying to sound more in control than he felt.

“Not before you do,” Sam said leaning forward and crawling between Dean’s legs. Dean bent them at the knees and let them fall open, his breath hitched as he watched Sam crawl to him. It wasn’t the best position, but Campbell was determined to make the best of it. He rested himself on his stomach, with his biceps over Dean’s thighs, pushing his legs back down. With his jeans just above his knees Dean had limited range of motion, and Sam kinda liked it that way.

He didn’t wait long for Dean to give instruction, and when he didn’t Sam maintained eye contact while grabbing the base of his dick and flicked his tongue out to lick just the tip. He watched the older man’s breath hitch and felt the muscles under his arms bunch in an attempt to move. He couldn’t help but think this was going to be awesome!

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Start nice and slow. Lick it all.” As the words spilled from his lips he reached up and ran his fingers through soft brown hair, pulling at the scalp a little. Sam moaned as he held the base and ran the flat of his tongue up the sensitive underside, from base to tip. After a couple long licks he kissed the tip, poking his tongue in the slit.

“Ah, ha!” Dean coughed and laughed at the same time, twitching under Sam as if trying to get away and get closer at the same time. Sam grinned and slowly sucked the head in between his lips, still looking Dean in the eye.

“Not sure I even need to tell you. Fucking natural, Sammy.” Warmth spread through the younger man’s chest at the compliment and he tried to think back about what Dean had done to him. He swirled his tongue around the head, sucking lightly, then moved down to take more in. He felt Dean’s hips twitch and knew he was fighting thrusting. Not that he could get very far with their current position.

Sam felt emboldened by the sounds and movements his partner was making and decided to just go for it. Figure out what Dean liked on his own. He started slowly bobbing his head, taking a little more in each time. When he pressed his tongue against the underside Dean gasped above him and squeezed his fist a big.

On the next pass up he chanced scrapping his bottom teeth over the sensitive part just under the head and felt another jerk of Dean’s hips and a mumbled curse. He couldn’t go too far just yet, when the head of Dean’s cock hit the back of his tongue he felt his gag reflex kick in, and he didn’t want to push himself too far the first time.

He maintained an even pace, up and down, and reached his free hand between Dean’s thighs to tug gently on his balls and press slightly just behind. This time he was caught off guard and Winchester managed to thrust into his mouth just a bit, hitting the back of his throat. Sam gagged and coughed as he pulled off, but started stroking with his fist to not lose momentum.

Dean’s hand came out of his hair as he rambled, “Oh, shit, Sam. I’m sorry, so sorry. I couldn’t help it.” Sam’s eyes were wet and he blinked away the tears as he swallowed, his throat a bit sore. He shook his head and looked Dean in the eyes while going back down on him. But this time the hand on his balls moved back further and put a little pressure on Dean’s pucker.

That seemed to do it. He increased suction, while still moving his fist over the shaft not in his mouth and pressed at Dean’s asshole. He felt the muscles of Dean’s strong thighs twitch under his arm and felt Dean’s fist grip his hair again.

“Shit, Sam!” Dean’s hips made jerky little motions to small to thrust into Sam’s throat again and he felt warmth spread over his tongue. The taste was unlike anything he’d ever known. Kinda salt, a little musky. Slimy. He worked at not gagging on it as he continued to suck Dean through his orgasm.

He removed his hand from Dean’s ass and stopped working his shaft, only leaving his lips around the tip as he dipped his tongue in the slit to collect more. Thinking to himself he’d definitely be able to get used to the taste of Dean.

Dean jerked his hips back and gasped a bit. “Okay, sensitive.” Sam pulled off slowly, smiling as Dean gasped again.

“Hope that was okay.” The smug smile on Sam’s face belied his words. Dean glared, playfully, at him as he leaned his head back against the wall trying to catch his breath.

“Give me a second, I’ll return the favor.” Sam blushed a bit at that and put his head down to rest on Dean’s thigh, then turned to peek up at him with one eye. Dean’s forehead scrunched in confusion.

“I, uh. Might already be good.” The eyebrows went up and one corner of his lips quirked into a smile.

“No shit? You got off getting me off? So fuckin hot, Sammy.” He rested his head back further and closed his eyes as his breathing evened out.

“So, there was another movie?”

“Yeah, one more. There was supposed to be another, but with the virus everything screeched to a halt around ninety-eight. Sucks.”

Dean got up and adjusted his jeans. Sam rolled over and sat up, looking a little sullenly at his.

“You can just take em off if you want.” Sam scowled.

“It’s cold.”

“Then it’s a good thing I brought pj’s huh?” Dean winked at him and dug through the backpack, pulling out two pairs of pajama pants and shirts. Sam changed, letting Dean watch, and they snuggled up again to watch Batman Returns.

~*~

Ash sat in the chair in front of his monitors. The room was dark save for the glow of the screens he was concentrating on, illuminating and shadowing his features. His eyebrows were drawn together and down in concentration. The program was almost done. And then his plan would be set into motion.

His fingers glided effortlessly over the keyboard as he tapped out lines. A smirk flitted across his face as he punched the final key. The middle screen danced with binary, the numbers scrolling quickly. Ash clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. It was a couple minutes of silence before everything stopped and the computer dinged.

“And away we go.” He leaned forward in his chair and tapped out the phone number he’d memorized by now. In the next box he wrote a few lines he was sure he was going to need, but he was sure enough in his skills that he could hold a conversation without a whole lot of prep.

Enter.

The computer sounded out a dial tone, then buttons being pressed, then it started to ring.

“Crowley.” Ash clicked a pre-written sentence with the cursor.

“I have a proposition for you.” He heard shuffling.

“Who is this?”

“I am in need of a carrier. Young, strong, good looking.” Ash hit another sentence and prepared himself to have to think on his feet, or fingers. He smirked.

“And what, pray tell, makes you think I would be able to procure such a carrier? Why would you think I’m even in that business?” Ash almost wished he had a button to make the computer voice in the phone laugh.

“I know you’re in it with Morningstar. He’s got his eye on a boy you have and I’d like to intercept.” There was silence on the other end. At least Crowley hadn’t hung up. Ash held his breath, waiting for the reply.

“I don’t go back on my deals…”

“Dust.”

“Dust? Very well. I already set a deal with Morningstar-” Ash hit a button to cut Crowley off.

“I am willing to make it worth your while.” Crowley grinned into the phone dollar signs suddenly clouding his vision.

The negotiations went quickly. Ash was able to offer Crowley whatever he wanted, it wasn’t like he had to follow through. And just as the mullet had hopped the sleaze called Morningstar right after. He tried making up some story about how Sam was no longer available. Things got heated quickly. Threats were thrown at each other and the conversation ended with promises of immense pain for Crowley.

Ash knew enough about the crime lord to know Crowley was as good as dead. Now they just had to worry about Nick. He decided he wasn’t going to tell Dean unless the man brought it up. There was no need to drag anyone in that he didn’t need to. He was at his desk all night, monitoring Crowley and Nick’s phones for a sign.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. Life and stuff.

Sam woke first. His cheek was warm and his head moved up and down at regular intervals. He snuggled his head a little and realized it was a chest he was resting on. Before even opening his eyes he smiled and turned into it slightly, pressing a kiss to the soft skin. He heard Dean hum approvingly in his sleep, making him smile.

The hand that was resting on the older man’s stomach rubbed in small circles a couple times before Sam rolled off and sat up to stretch. He grimaced when he smacked his lips and then couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he remembered why he had such a horrible taste in his mouth.

He turned to see Dean laying on his back, still passed out. Sam sat and watched the rise and fall of the man’s chest, thinking how amazing it would be to wake up to that for the rest of his life. He must have let his mind wander because his eyes snapped back into focus at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“I’m sorry, huh?” Sam asked not even bothering to look sheepish. Dean grinned at him and puffed his chest a little before repeating himself.

“Let’s go get coffee.” Sam smiled and nodded vigorously before rising to his feet and helping Dean up. They decided to forego putting things away, they’d probably be back down later, and made the trek back to the house.

Charlie and Bobby were already at the kitchen table, reading the paper and sipping their own dark roast. Neither of them mentioned the boys being out all night. Together. Maybe they were going to give up on trying to get Dean to follow the rules. Somehow this thought brought another warm smile to Sam’s face. One that Charlie didn’t miss.

They shared small talk as they sipped coffee and ate the eggs and bacon Bobby had offered to make. Sam was clearing the dishes from the table when Charlie’s cell phone rang.

“Huh, not a known number. I’ll be right back, then we can discuss the day.” Dean grunted, Bobby threw a wadded paper napkin at him. Sam just laughed at their antics. Dean finished his coffee and rose to help Sam with the dishes, Sam washing Dean drying. They were almost finished when Charlie burst into the house.

“Guys! Great news! Well, great and bad news. Which first, Sam?” The younger man turned to his partner with his eyebrows up. Dean pointedly ignored him until Sam cleared his throat.

“Nu-uh, dude. She asked you.” He knew it was going to take some time to break the kid of looking to others to make decisions. But the thought that they’d have a long time to figure that out left a warmth spreading through his gut.

“Uh, bad. I guess. End on a good note and all?” Charlie basically ignored him and plopped herself back at the table.

“Sorry, Sam. But the bad news is your father is challenging the union, he wants you home.” Dean managed to reach around Sam’s waist and grab the plate before the kid dropped it.

“What?” A strained voice and stiff posture showed just how terrified of that idea he was. Charlie didn’t give him any time to stew in it, however.

“Yes, the great news? The agency is sending someone out tomorrow to view your relationship with Dean and talk to the both of you. Maybe interview a few of your friends. I didn’t even know about the challenge until the case manager told me. He’s on his way now and hopes to have this wrapped up by the end of the week!”

A pregnant pause fell over the kitchen, you could almost hear everyone breathing as they looked to Sam for a reaction. He slowly turned to face Dean, his expression unreadable and a little worrisome. Then he threw his arms around the shorter man’s shoulders and squeezed, burying his face in Dean’s neck.

“It’s almost over. It’s almost over, Dean.” Winchester held Sam to him tightly, mouthing a thanks at Charlie as she and Bobby rose to sneak out of the kitchen. Once settled in the living room Dean’s uncle spoke up.

“What are the odds the case manager pulls that boy outta here?” The redhead put her best game face on and tried to look as confident as she wanted to feel. She watched the boys interact from the beginning and while it might have gotten off to a rocky start she was sure they were going to be perfect together.

“If this guy that’s coming, Matt something, can’t see what’s right in front of his face I can request a review.” She held up her hand to stop Bobby from interrupting. “I know, it seems like a lot of back and forth. But the system was set up so the carriers aren’t taken advantage of. Our system is not foolproof, but it works.”

Bobby nodded at that, daring a glance back into the kitchen. He could only see Dean, but clearly saw Sam’s arms still wrapped around him. They might have even been swaying by then. He heaved a deep sigh.

“Alright. Hopefully this guy will be the end all and we can put this whole thing behind us and-” Bobby cut himself off and choke-coughed into a fist. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat, pounding a couple times on his chest. He met Charlie’s soft eyes and darted his own away quickly.

“Plan a wedding?” she asked sweetly. Throwing him into another coughing fit.

~*~

Ash was typing furiously at his keyboard, his face drawn tight and eyebrows drawn down. Sometime while he had been sleeping, after the call between Crowley and Nick, he'd lost Nicks signal. The phone must have been destroyed. Like, water or crushed destroyed.

He woke up to find he had no idea where Nick was. And he'd sworn to Dean he could help, would do his best. Jo had tried to get him to come out to the bar for lunch and started at his expression. She'd never seen him so upset, he was usually pretty easy going.

Suddenly he slammed his fists onto the desk. That was it. He'd looked at every contact, searched every alias. Nothing. There was no sign of Morningstar anywhere.

“This can't be good. Where are you?”

~*~

The next morning Dean was elbows deep under the hood of a mid-sized truck, grumbling at how poorly people treated their vehicles. Benny was in the bay next to him and Garth was in the office with Jo. If Dean had known they were discussing an upcoming wedding he might have flipped his lid.

“Hey, there, brotha. Got a second?” Dean nearly slammed his head on the hood when Benny’s voice suddenly boomed behind him. He turned and scowled at the cajun.

“No.” Benny’s brows pinched together with a hurt expression as he wiped his hands on a shop rag.

“What the hell, Dean? Just tryin’a catch up is all. You been a little preoccupied lately.” Those words coming from his best friend had him deflating slightly. He backed off the engine and grabbed his own rag from his back pocket.

“What’s up, dude? Wanna grab our lunches and sit?” he asked as he wiped his hands. Benny smiled, then, and clasped him on the shoulder.

“Sounds good. How’s your abstinence going?” Dean’s rag hit Benny square in the face as he grumbled about pain-in-the-ass-friends. Benny chuckled as they grabbed some sack lunches out of the fridge and made their way to the picnic tables out behind the garage. It was shady back there, and usually had a nice breeze whipping around the side of the building.

The first few minutes they sat in silence. After chewing a few bites Dean cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. The cajun watched him patiently as he shook his head and looked down at the woodgrain pattern on the table top. Did he look… Shy? Benny went back to his food, knowing his friend well enough to be sure he’d speak his mind eventually. He just had to get past his own hang ups.

“Yeah, so Sam’s dad is fighting the marriage. He wants Sam home.” Benny’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his sandwich.

“What are y’all gone’ do?”

“We’re fighting it. When the guy told the agency he wanted to cancel the arrangement they sent someone out right away, guy should be here today, to conduct an investigation. See if the offer was fair and if Sam would be safe and happy here.” Benny nodded and put his lunch down.

“You know he will. We got your back, anytime. Whatever you want us to say.” Dean smiled his thanks, but shook his head.

“Naw, man. Just tell em the truth. We got nothing to hide.”

~*~

Sam and Charlie had been in Dean’s cabin all morning, though Sam had started calling it theirs in his head. Charlie still referred to it as Dean’s. Whatever. They were giving it the same treatment Dean, Bobby, and Jo had done before they’d arrived. Sweeping, dusting, mopping; Sam was nervous.

He really needed to impress this Matt guy. He’d even snapped at Charlie once. Just once, though. Because she was scary when she was angered, and he was reminded she was on his side. She’s been here the entire time and seen them together. He was feeling a little better after her pep talk, knowing she was in his corner.

Sam hadn't realized how quietly they'd been working until the CB radio kicked on and Bobby's gruff voice was calling for the kid. He locked eyes with Charlie before rushing to the table and picking up the receiver.

“Yeah, Bobby, we're here.”

“Y’all need to get on over to the house. We got comp’ny.” Sam smiled wide, then felt his stomach drop. This was it. Dean was still in the shop, they'd all agreed to let Sam meet with Matt first. This whole situation had the older man a bit worked up and they didn't need him blowing up on the guys who could save them.

Sam put the CB down and nervously rubbed his hands down the front of his shirt, then through his hair. Charlie grinned and put a hand on his shoulder.

“We got this, Sam.” The kid could only nod as Charlie steered him out the front door.

~*~

Dean and Benny were wrapping up their lunch garbage when Jo came sauntering over and plopped herself down sideways on the bench next to Dean. He looked at her from the corner of his eye and was immediately suspicious of her smile.

“So, Dean, thought about colors for the wedding?” Her smile widened wickedly when he choked on air and fell into a coughing fit. Benny's accompanying smile annoyed him.

“Jesus, Jo. Warn a guy. No, I haven't. We're not even sure Sam is staying and we don't want to get our hopes up. The girl rolled her eyes dramatically and reached out for a few of his raisins. It was times like these he was questioning their relationship.

“Oh, please. As if anyone that gets within a thirty foot radius of you two can't tell how in love you are.” Then she freaking giggled. Dean clenched a fist on the table.

“Alright, alright, Harvelle. Give the guy a break. Not like he can even help his feelin’s.” Dean scowled at the both of them and moved to stand from the table. Jo grabbed his arm and stuttered for something else to say.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked narrowing his eyes. Jo had her mouth open ready to speak as soon as she found the words. Her eyes shifted to Benny and her eyebrows knitted together. Dean looked to Benny then who shrugged at Jo and turned back to Dean. The three of them sat in uncomfortable silence.

“What are you hiding?” Dean asked again moving his eyes between Jo and Benny, then scanning the yard behind the garage. Nothing seemed amiss. No odd sounds. But his friends were hiding something.

“Nothin’, brotha. We, uh, nothin’.” Dean stood from the bench watching Jo watch Benny with insistent eyes.

“Are you guys- What’s going on?” He crossed his arms and straightened his back giving them his best bitch-face. Benny sighed.

“Look, man-”

“Benny!” Jo hissed, her hands flat on the table. Dean just glared at them in turn.

“Shut up, Jo. Look, I'm not sure if it's now, but we were supposed to distract you when the agency guy got here.” Jo huffed an exaggerated sigh and put her forehead down on her folded hands.

“I take it that's what's going on. And why can't I go in there?” He was fighting the urge to run to the house. To run to Sam. He doesn't have to do things alone anymore.

“Charlie thought it'd be better if Sam talked to him alone first. You're kinda hot headed,” Jo said looking up at him. He wanted to argue but knew they were right. Well, fine. He'd prove them all he could remain in control of himself.

He huffed at them both and turned to walk through the garage to the house. He heard both follow. Once at the bay door he saw the new car in the drive and purposefully meandered his way to the front door. He made a point of turning to look at them, eyebrows raised, before he went inside.

Four pairs of eyes met him when he stepped into the livingroom. Charlie stood and moved to his side.

“Dean, this is Matt. He's the case manager from the agency.” Dean offered the man a smile as he stepped into the room to shake his hand. Matt stood halfway up from the couch where he was perched next to Sam and offered his own.

“It's great to meet you, Dean. I've heard nothing but good things so far. I expect this investigation to wrap up fairly soon.” Dean nodded his head and smiled.

“Thanks, Matt. That's great. Hey, have we met? Or do you have family in the area? I feel like I've seen you before.” Mat laughed lightly as he sat back down on the couch.

“No, no family. I have been told I have one of those faces.” Everyone chuckled a bit and settled back into small talk about the garage and the property. Matt talked about procedure for the visit, how he'd be interviewing friends and family and observing the couple's behavior. He would basically be replacing Charlie as chaperone.

However, at the end of his visit he assured the boys that Sam would most likely get to stay and they would both be free of the agency for good. Unless they needed assistance with anything and to receive their monthly monetary support. Sam was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Sam, Dean, would you mind showing me around the property?” Matt asked gesturing out the window toward the scrap yard. The younger man practically jumped up from the couch.

“Yeah! Yes, it's pretty big. And there's a lot going on,” he said moving around the coffee table to stand next to Dean. He couldn't help but wrap his fingers in his fiance’s and smile goofily.

Matt chuckled at the sheer joy in the younger man's face and stood to his full height. Dean was a little surprised to find he looked the man in the eye. He was taller then he looked sitting down.

“Lead the way, boys.”

Sam showed the case manager around with exuberance. Dean smiled at the young man's unbridled joy and felt a pang in his heart at how proud Sam already was of the place. Their place. Their home.

Then the small group wound up at the head of the trail that lead to the Batcave. Sam toed the dirt, seemingly unsure whether he should reveal their secret or not. Matt seemed to pick up on it.

“What's through there? Looks like a trail. Does it lead anywhere?” Sam smiled a bit shyly at Dean, who just shrugged. Leaving the decision to Sam.

“It's kinda a secret,” Sam said in a hushed tone, as if someone else could be listening In. Matt looked at Sam, smiling, then to Dean.

“I can keep a secret.”

“Alright, let's go.” Sam lead the way with Matt following close and Dean bringing up the rear. The walk was short but the air was a bit humid. Might be another storm on the way. By the time they reached the entrance they were sweating a little.

“So, I found this place a little after I got here. Apparently, Dean had no idea it was here. And we haven't asked Bobby cause, you know, secret.” Dean caught the smirk the kid sent his way when mentioning he'd not known and reached to shove his shoulder lightly. Sam ducked and walked faster through the tunnel.

When they reached the point where the cavern opened a little Sam flicked on the battery and the lights came alive. Matt actually looked pretty impressed as he took it all in.

“That a battery? Where's the power coming from?” Dean rocked back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, proud grin on his face.

“Sammy built a solar panel. Has it rigged to store a little juice in the battery for when we come out here.” Matt turned an impressed eye to the kid.

“That's really something, Sam. You're a smart kid.” Sam just shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet with a shy smile.

~*~

Ash had his elbows planted on his desk on either side of his keyboard. He was staring at the middle screen as code scrolled through, rubbing his temples furiously. He had been sitting there so long he was starting to get a headache. And for him that was really saying something.

For the past hour he felt like he was getting close so he didn't want to take a break just yet. Something was nagging at him. Chewing at the back of his mind. He'd never had so much trouble finding someone.

Somewhere in the past twenty four hours Crowley’s phone had gone dark as well. No signal to track. It was entirely possible they had wiped each other out. Ash knew Crowley was no slouch in the self defense department. More so in the conniving way. He was more a thinker than a fighter, but in no way weak.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, then reached out and tapped a key that cloaked the room in darkness. With his screens on standby he made his way out to the bar. The lunch crowd was filtering in and the air had cooled a bit. They could do with more rain.

He plunked down on a bar stool at the closest end to the hall and waited for Ellen to notice him.

“You get anything, hun?” She asked setting a cold pint in front of him. He shook his head and wrapped tired fingers around the slick glass, downing half in the first go. Ellen arched a brow at him but didn't say anything.

He ordered his lunch and sat quietly, contemplating his next move. He really hoped the delinquents took each other out and Dean had nothing more to worry about. But something was pulling at him and he knew better than to ignore his gut.

~*~

After the tour of the yard Matt went back to the main house to have a private sit down with Bobby and Charlie in turns. Sam and Dean wound up in the deserted garage, thunder began to rumble in the distance seeming to charge Dean up.

“I can't wait for this to be over,” he mumbled against Sam's skin as he backed him against the hood of whatever car was in the shop. When the backs of his thighs connected he sat on the hood and spread his knees so the older man could slot between his thighs.

Sam tilted his head back, to offer Dean more. More that he took eagerly. His fingers gripped Sam's hips tightly as he nipped and sucked his way down the column of his neck. The younger man wrapped his arms tight around Dean's shoulder, trying to pull him closer as he rucked his shirt up his back.

Dean growled into Sam's shoulder when the kid scratched down his back. He took a step back so Sam could rip the shirt over his head. Then he was back in Sam's space, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his chest as he exposed new skin. Sam gripped Dean's head and moaned as the older man nipped and sucked at a nipple.

“Shit, Dean!” He threw the shirt off his shoulders when the last button was released and was shoved back against the hood. One hand on his tight stomach, the other working deft fingers to release the button fly of his jeans.

“Want you so bad, you have no fucking idea,” Dean practically growled, digging his nails into the soft skin of Sam's stomach. The younger man hissed through his teeth and pulled his knee up to rub against the bulge in Dean's jeans.

“I kinda have an idea. Get naked.” As soon as the last button was undone Dean backed up and grabbed the bottoms of the jeans. He ripped them off in one pull, making Sam laugh lightly.

“You practice that move?” He asked watching with hungry eyes as Dean tore his own jeans off. Neither of them were wearing underwear. His pupils were fully blown as he climbed up the hood, scooting Sam back so he was laying against the windshield. Dean was on his knees, straddling Sam's hips. One hand braced against the hood of the car, the other gripping Sam's hair.

Their lips met in a clash of teeth, tongues battling and exploring like it was their first time. Both sloppy and wet by the time they came up for air. Dean adjusted his knees so he was sitting on Sam's thighs, their swollen cocks rubbed together deliciously. Both men let out deep throated groans as Dean took his hand from Sam's hair and wrapped it around both of them.

Dean snapped his hips forward into his grip, the dry drag burning a little. Without being prompted Sam spit into his palm and rubbed the saliva wherever Dean wasn't touching. Dean hummed his approval and started stroking again, this time sliding smoothly.

Sam was trying to buck up into his fist, up with Dean sitting on his thighs he had little room to move. He growled in frustration. Dean canted his hips forward and huffed a laugh.

“What's wrong, Sammy?”

“Fucking move!” Sam demanded trying to pull his knees up to brace his heels on the hood of the car. Dean shifted back a little, pinning him effectively. Sam growled again and reached forward with both hand, pinching Dean's nipples hard. He wasn't expecting Dean to grip them tighter and throw his head back with a groan. It was Sam’s turn to laugh.

“Like that, huh?” he asked squeezing again. This time Dean growled and started moving his fist as blurring speed.

“Fucking kid. You tryin’a kill me?” The words were spoken against Sam’s shoulder as Dean leaned into him for support. His hips were shifting on their own accord now as he quickly brought both of them closer to orgasm.

Sam’s hand came up and gripped the back of Dean’s neck as he tried fruitlessly to pump his own hips. He felt teeth grip his shoulder as Dean started to grunt with every thrust. The younger man reached between them and put his hand over Dean’s, following his lead. And that was the kicker.

They came at the same time, both growling out through their release. Dean’s hips slowed, and soon the only thing they could hear was each other panting in the space between them.

“I can’t wait to do the real thing.” Sam grunted and smiled, relaxing back onto the top of the car. Neither of them saw the face peering through the window, glaring at the pair as they came down from their high.

~*~

“So, I have a few more people I’d like to talk to. How does dinner out sound? We could to go,” Matt paused to scroll through his phone, “The Roadhouse?”

It took the boys an hour to pull themselves together, clean up, and make their way back to the house. The others were all sitting in the living room waiting for them to come back. Dean nodded at him and looked at Sam.

“Sounds good to me. He can talk to Jo and Ellen or something and we can grab dinner. Might want to go now though, try and beat the storm.” Matt nodded and looked to Charlie.

“If you don’t mind I’d like to just take the boys. Less of a spectacle.” Charlie nodded enthusiastically.

“No problem, I completely understand. Bobby and I can eat here tonight and maybe when your investigation is done we can all go out together to celebrate.” Matt offered her a toothy smile and nodded. Then clapped his hands together and turned to the guys.

“I’ll drive!”

They made it to the Roadhouse just before the rain started. And it started by coming down in sheets. The sky wasn’t too dark yet, but the thunder and lightning was as extreme as the water pelting the parking lot.

“So much for beating the rain,” Dean grumbled, half to himself, as they went through the saloon style doors. The place was a little crowded for weekday dinner. But Dean supposed that was because the patrons didn’t want to be driving in the rain. They found a quiet booth tucked in the corner of the restaurant part of the bar.

“You guys go ahead and get your orders in, I’m gonna see a friend real quick. I’ll be right back,” Dean said sliding from the booth. Sam watched him curiously as he walked down a hallway at the end of the bar. Matt closed the menu he was holding and turned to look at Sam.

Dean went down the dark hall, the light was dim and there weren’t any windows. Not that the storm would let much light through anyway. He knocked on Ash’s door before pushing it open and poking his head in. The guy was sitting at his desk with a few things up on his screen.

“Hey, buddy. Got a second?” Ash swiveled his chair to turn toward the voice and perked up at seeing Winchester.

“Yeah, come on in. I have some shit to discuss. Close the door.” Dean stepped in, a little worry showing through on his face, and closed the door tight behind him. He moved across the room to sit in the chair next to Ash’s desk.

“What’s up, man? How are things looking?” He leaned forward to get a better look at the screens but had no idea what all the numbers and shifting lines meant so he sat back and propped an elbow on the arm of the chair.

“Well, that’s the thing. Everything is pretty quiet. And it could be a good quiet, but until I have proof I’m not going to treat it that way. I lost track of both Crowley and Nick a day ago and haven't had anything come up on my radar.”

“Crowley was supposed to be on his way here, what if he changed his mind? Or Sam called him up and told him about canceling the match and wanting Sam home?” Ash turned to look at Dean with a curious stare.

“Uh, I would have heard. I’ve got his phone bugged, so to speak. Nothing from Campbell came through. What cancelation are you talking about?”

“Charlie got a call the other day from a case manager from the agency. He’s here now, interviewing people we know who have hung out with us. Apparently Sam’s dad wanted him home, he didn’t like the offer we made. So this guy, Matt, is here to investigate. Things are looking good, Sam is most likely going to get to stay here and his family will get nothing.” Dean couldn’t stop the grin that split his face at the through.

Ash hummed and turned back to his computer. He tapped at the keyboard on one screen and moved to tap at another.

“Okay, so I put out some feelers to some friends of mine looking for this guy, the picture will come up in a second. This is the files for the agency…” His voice trailed off as he scanned the many files with squinted eyes. Dean leaned forward again, but the type was too small to see. Instead he watched the first screen as a picture formed line by line.

Ash sat back in his chair, still scrutinizing the screen. “Nope, nothing here about Campbell. Says he’s still altering the contract. You good, dude?” Ash was now looking at Dean, who had gone slightly pale.

“Ash, who the fuck is that?” he asked pointing to the first screen.

“That, my compadre, is Morningstar. Since I lost his signal that’s the picture I’m sending out to my contacts. You’ve never seen the guy?” Dean shook his head dumbly. Blonde hair, slight scruff, broad shoulders, tall; yup, that was him.

“Are you sure? You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yeah, bro. What’s up?” Ash asked looking from the screen to Dean’s face.

“That’s Matt. That’s the guy sitting at the table with Sam. Right now!” Ash’s own face dropped as he sat forward in his chair.

“Dean, don’t panic-” Before the man finished speaking Dean was up and out of his chair, running down the hall to the bar. He stopped at the entry, not wanting to give himself away before he had a plan. His stomach got heavy and his head got light when he looked to the booth and Sam and Nick were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for baring with me here. I'd like to be able to give you a part a week, but it's hard to stay focused sometimes. There will be one more part (Part 8) before I take a mini-break. The kids are home for the summer and we're figuring out my son's homeschool schedule and it's going to take a little bit. I'm going to try and keep working on it it the mean time, but there probably wont be an update until August/September.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we're doing away with Monday updates, I'm just going to post whenever it's ready. Cause it's not consistent anyway. Sorry, and here's the next chapter.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions!
> 
> And thanks to my Beta, who encourages me and fixes my blunders.

“What the fuck is going on, dude?” Dean was pacing Ash's small office with his fingers tight in his hair.

“So, I feel like I might have dropped a ball somewhere around here. Morningstar is mostly known for ‘wiping out’ crime. But he's also known, by some, for taking over everything. He's America's crime boss,” Ash said without looking at him. He was feverishly tapping at his keyboard.

“And you didn't think I needed to know that?” Dean all but roared as he wheeled around to face him. Jo stepped between them with a look of warning.

“I, uh, kinda got Crowley out of the picture, then Morningstar went dark. I was trying to find him, remember. I probably should have shown you his picture, but honestly thought you knew what he looked like since you knew of him.” Dean shook his head, trying to calm down when his phone rang, Charlie calling him back.

“Charlie! Sam's gone, someone took him!”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

“Crowley was going to sell Sam to Nick Morningstar. Matt was not from the agency, he's a fucking fraud and he took my Sam!”

“Dean, I have to go. I'll call you right back.”

“Charlie-”

“I have to call the agency, Dean.” Then she hung up. Dean squeezed the phone in his fist, resisting the urge to throw it.

“How the fuck did he even get that kid outta here.”

~*~

“Wow, how can the agency even afford this? I mean, there has to be a lot of people getting married through them. And they get everyone a ring?” Sam was riding shotgun next to Matt.

“Yup, kiddo. Everyone gets to pick out a new ring. You’ll have a budget of course, but we like to help our clients start off on the right foot.” Sam nodded and looked out the window. When they came to a crossroad Matt made a left and Sam looked around with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, you made a wrong turn. The shopping center is back that way.” Sam hiked a thumb behind him and turned to look at the driver. Who remained silent. “Uh, Matt, what’s up, buddy?”

“Just remain calm, Sam. We’ve got quite a way to go and it’ll be a lot easier on you if you just go with the flow.” Sam squinted his eyes a bit, trying to figure out why that sounded so bad. His stomach started to flutter as he tried to push down rising panic and rationalize what was going on.

“Yeah, alright. That sounded pretty ominous and really doesn’t make me feel calm. Wanna try that again?” Sam offered a hesitant and not heartfelt huff of laughter at the end to try and dissuade himself from freaking out. Matt turned to look at him and it was like a whole other person. His eyes were hard and his face was no longer relaxed and friendly. He looked deadly.

“Sam, you are about to embark on a grand adventure. You’re life is never going to be the same. And the better you are at following the rules the happier you’re going to be in the long run. So sit back, shut up, and quit thinking too much.” He stared a bit longer, watching Sam’s face change from hesitant to fearful. The driver offered a menacing smirk and turned back to the road. Sam swallowed hard and tried to muster some courage.

“Listen,” his voice only shook a little, “the agency is going to be pissed when they find out what you’re doing. You can’t possibly think they won’t find out. You couldn’t have finished your investigation by now and I want to stay with Dean. Take me back and we can forget the whole thing, Matt.” Nick threw his head back and laughed, squeezing his eyes shut. Sam was momentarily afraid they’d go off the road. Then he bit his bottom lip.

“Yeah, kid. Good one. You still think I’m with that stupid agency? You know, I usually send a minion to do my dirty work. I like to keep my image squeaky clean so that I can go about my business with no… altercations. But this time it was kinda last minute. Emergency if you will. You’re going to be the latest addition to my stable. In all likelihood you’ll never see Dean Winchester again.” Sam’s mouth opened in shock and his heart skipped a few beats. He actually started feeling light headed and had to grab the door to keep from swaying.

This couldn’t be happening. After everything he’d been through it was only just getting worse. He had to get out of this car. He had to get back to Dean.

“Who are you?” he asked, trying to fit thoughts together into a plan. He was having a hard time concentrating on one thing through, everything flying around at mach speed. Focus on a question. Focus on the answer.

“I suppose you’ll learn sooner or later. Names Nick.” Sam swallowed back a mouthful of saliva, his stomach threatening to push everything back up. That could work.

“Yeah, well, pull over Nick. I think I’m going to be sick.”

 

“Oh, clever. But nope. Toss your cookies in the backseat, kid. Car’s not even mine. We’ll be picking up my ride here in about an hour. And I’m not risking your jumping out the window, so they’re not going down either. If you don’t want to sit in the stench I suggest holding it back. Your choice though.” Yeah, okay. So he’s not dumb. But he is human. Sam reached down, not even bothering to hide, and tightened the belt across his lap. Then he lunged at Nick, unbuckling his belt with his left hand while shoving at the steering wheel with his right.

“Fuck off!” Nick yelled as the vehicle cut into the oncoming lane and kept going off the side of the road. It careened, out of control, through some bushes and came to a smashing stop against a giant oak tree. The occupants lurched forward with the sudden stop and Sam’s vision faded to the sound of a blaring car horn.

~*~

Dean was pacing a trench in Ash’s office. No one had the heart to tell him to cut it out. Ash was still working at his computer, he couldn’t get a pin on Nick’s phone. The guy had to have found the tracker and erased it. He might have even put up a shield on the one he had. This was not good.

“Dean, honey, Bobby just pulled up out front.” Dean stopped pacing to turn and look at her, eyes wide. He had been waiting for Bobby to call him back. Charlie must have sent him.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks Ellen. Ash, let me know if you find anything.”

“Will do, compadre,” the mullet said not even turning from his screen. Dean nodded at Jo and was out the door, hauling ass down the hallway and bursting through the saloon doors.

“Bobby-”

“Git in! We gotta try and catch up to em. How long’s it been since they left?” Bobby shoved the driver door open and slid across the bench seat, giving Dean the wheel to his Baby.

“‘Bout half hour, I think. I went to talk to Ash. I thought it’d be okay to leave Sam in the booth. I’m so fucking stupid.” Dean slammed the door and put the Impala in gear at the same time, kicking up dust as he launched out of the parking lot. The quickest way out of town was the highway by the woods. That’d be their best guess.

“Yeah, boy, if you are we all are. None of us saw it coming. Didn’t even get a bad feeling. My fuckin’ radar must be whacked.” Dean offered a small, but grateful smile. The road they were travelling was empty and Dean had pedal to the floor.

“We gotta find him, Bobby. This guy is bad news. Even if Sam wants to leave after this, or if the agency decides to pull him. We gotta bring him home. I will not let this douche bag turn Sam into his cash cow.” Bobby kept his grip on the door and shot Dean an incredulous sideways glance.

“Why in the world would the agency force that kid back? He has made it pretty clear, on more than one occasion, that this is where he wants to be.” Dean shook his head and sighed.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I just proved, to everyone, that I can’t protect him. Why would they let him stay with someone who can’t even take care of him proper.” Bobby rolled his eyes and shook his head right back.

“Good Lord, son. I think you’re provin’ to everyone right now that you’d risk your own life to save the kid. Now quit mopin’ like you lost ‘im when you ain’t even found ‘im yet.” Dean coughed to clear his throat.

“Yeah, alrigth. Thanks, Bobby.” The old man nodded and huffed at him.

“Good, ya idjit. Now keep an eye out. I’d love to catch up to this jackass and introduce him to my fourty-five.” That one did get Dean huffing a laugh.

“Yeah, well, you’re going to have to beat me to him.”

“I don’t see that bein’ a problem. I’m willin’ to bet you’re gonna be makin’ a beeline for that kid.” The jest was familiar, almost calming. The silence that followed was not. Both men were actually very worried they’d never see Sam again.

“Shit, Bobby. Look!” Dean said slowing the car and pointing to black tire marks on the road. They were in the same direction, swerved into the left lane then right off the road. There was even a hole in the brush, but they couldn’t see beyond. Dean put Baby in park and rushed out of the car.

“I’ll be damned if these aren’t fresh. Smell the damn rubber burning. It’s gotta be them.” Dean grabbed the keys from the ignition and ran to the trunk. He popped up the false bottom and grabbed a Colt M1911A1 and two extra magazines. He shoved the weapon into the back of his jeans and put a mag in each pocket.

“Let’s get going.” They jogged across the street, leaving Baby right there in the road. If anyone came by they’d hopefully call for help. Dean lead Bobby through the bushes and they immediately saw the car. The hood was nearly in two, they’d hit the oak that hard. Both doors were open.

“Sam!” Dean called rushing forward. He rounded the right bumper crossing his fingers that someone would be in the car. He wasn’t surprised to find it empty. His stomach lurched at the sight of all the blood.

“Oh, shit. Oh, God, Sam.” Dean rested his hands on the roof of the car and bent at the waist, breathing through his mouth.

“Dean, look at me, boy!” Bobby shouted from the driver side. Winchester took a couple deep breaths before being able to right himself and look at Bobby over the roof. His face was slack and he looked years older than he was.

“There ain’t anyone in here. If Sam had died Nick’d left ‘im. No one walked away from this wreck without an injury, most likely head. Head injuries, even if they’re not serious, bleed a lot. There is more blood on this side. Ya feel me?” Dean nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. Bobby was right. Sam walked away from this crash.

~*~

Sam jerked away, immediate pain shot through his head making his eyeballs throb. He groaned low and raised his hand to touch his forehead.

“God, not another hangover. What the fuck did we do last night.” Then his eyes shot open and he realized he’d been woken by a car horn. A chirping sound announced it’s death and the forest was silent around him. He looked to his left to see Nick slouched against the steering wheel. In a flood of memory the day came back to him and he started to feel the results of the crash.

He cataloged his injuries as quickly as he could. He had to get out of there, get as far away as possible. Find help. He had to find Dean.

Sam unbuckled the belt and checked the driver again. He wasn’t going to touch him, didn’t need to feel for a pulse that badly. He swung his legs out and stood slowly, wincing at the pain in his knee. Over all he had minimal injuries. The cut to his head was bleeding down the front of his shirt, but he was pretty sure he didn’t have a concussion.

He looked back toward the road, then deeper into the woods. He winced again and looked down to his feet.

“Think, Sam. Think, you gotta get outta here. Which way would this creep go? He’d probably take the road. Right?” Sam asked himself as he looked around inside the car. He took a bottle of water from the floor board in the back and started through the woods the way the vehicle was facing.

~*~

Nick was limping through the trees, holding his right thigh in his hand. That little fucking shit was going to have hell to pay when he caught up to him. Smart fucker, unbuckling him before he grabbed the wheel. Any faster and it might have killed him. As it was there was a giant gash on his head where he’d hit the windshield. He might have to kill him on principal.

“Sam!” He’d been shouting at the kid since he started off through the trees. He’d gone to the road first of course, but there was no sign the kid had gone that way. And he couldn’t see anyone walking in either direction, so he’d gone to the passenger side of the car. That’s where he saw the footprints in the soft forest floor.

Maybe Sam was only half smart.

Either way, he wouldn’t get too far. The rain had stopped before the crash but the sky was still dark and the clouds rolled ominously. Shit wasn’t looking too good. Fucking kid. He might just kill him.

~*~

Sam was cursing at himself for being so out of shape. His clothes were drenched in sweat, which seemed unfair compared to how thirsty he was. He knew his pace had slowed but he didn't dare stop. The goal was to find a house and call for help. Solid plan.

Except he hadn't paid much attention while being driven around. He knew the woods he was in backed Bobby's property. But there were a few other houses scattered about, too. All he needed was to find one.

The sun was beginning to set, but with the darkened sky it had felt like dusk for ages. It was getting a bit harder to see in the denser parts of the forest and Sam tried to use that to his advantage. Unfortunately, when you use low visibility areas to stay hidden you also run the risk of not seeing danger.

One second Sam was trudging through loam and wet brush the next the ground was gone. His world spun for a few seconds then he felt himself bounce off packed dirt. Then everything really went dark.

~*~

“Shit, Bobby. We're not gonna be able to see our dicks to pee pretty soon. It's getting dark fast.” The pair were tracking Sam and Nick, neither man seemed to be very good at being subtle.

“Yeah,” Bobby said, sounding a little winded, “I'm gonna head back. I got no reception out here and I need to update Charlie. We'll get a party together and go at these woods from all sides.” Dean stopped to turn and look at the older man.

“Yes, I'm sure. Been in these woods longer ‘an you been alive. But take this,” he said offering a .45 caliber pistol. Dean hesitated to take it.

“What if you need it?”

“You're the one chasing a kidnapper, who is probably armed, in the dark. I'll be at the car in no time.” Dean nodded and traded the firearm for his Baby's keys. He watched Bobby head back for a bit before turning back to the trail and picking up his pace.

~*~

Sam woke a little groggy. His head was killing him and he couldn't remember why. He groaned as he opened his eyes. It was dark, but dry. There was the glow of a fire somewhere to his right. Slowly the shadows came into focus and he realized he was in the mine. Dean had found him! He wanted to laugh but could only muster a ghost of one.

“Something funny, cupcake?” Sam's eyes widened and his breath hitched in his chest. That was not Dean. Despite the pain in his head and the nausea threatening his gut he tried sitting up to look around. He couldn't pull his arms down. He looked up to find his wrists fastened together above his head, tied with his belt to something he couldn't see.

Then Nick walked into his view, looking a little like Sam felt. He could tell the man was masking pain, but he was doing a better job at it than Sam.

“Hey, Sammy. You caused a lot of trouble today. Thing is, I can't decide whether you're worth it or not. So, I figured, while I'm waiting for my team to come get us maybe I'll take that ass for a test drive. Make sure the clients are gonna be getting their money's worth, huh?”

“Fuck you! Dean's going to find me,” Sam growled out. He hoped his tone belied the sick churning in his gut. There was no mistaking any of the threats this man was making. A team of people to help him kidnap Sam. Clients? Yeah that sounded good. Test drive? The thought of this man touching him made him sick.

“Yeah,” Nick smiled as he pulled a handgun from his pocket and waved it at Sam. “I don't think it's a proper party without Dean here anyway, right? Maybe he likes to watch, I don't know. I don't judge.”

~*~

“C’mon, Sammy. Where the hell are ya?” Dean was mumbling to himself now. The woods were nearly pitch black with the clouds blocking out the moon. The air was damp and thick and Dean's clothes were soaked through. He was starting to feel discouraged. He couldn't even track anymore due to the lack of light.

The man stopped and strained his ears for any sounds, any indication of someone else out there. His shoulders slumped as he dropped his head back. As he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath he turned to continue through the trees in the direction he knew Bobby's property would be. Only his foot didn't connect with dirt and he tumbled six feet to land on hard ground.

“Fucking hell,” Dean grumbled against the dirt. He lifted his head slightly and lazily brought an arm up to swipe down his face. As he rolled onto his back he groaned a bit, panting slightly with desperation and adrenaline. Then he focused on where he was.

The Batcave!

He’d gone through the forest in a direction he’d never been in before. He had no idea he was so close to Bobby’s and didn’t recognize any of the scenery from the way he came. He was right in front of the Batcave, walked right off the drop where the entrance dipped into the ground. And there was a glow deep inside.

Sam. It had to be. Sam found his way here and was waiting for him. Had to get to Sam.

Dean stood, wobbling slightly, and dusted himself off. Which was pretty much useless considering he was all wet and the dirt just smeared into mud. They were going to shower for a few days after this fiasco.

As he made his way into the cave he heard voices. Yeah, definitely two people. Which could only mean Nick had found Sam.

“You lead me here, kiddo. Knocked yourself out right in front of this dump. Got yourself a little secret hide out? Base camp? No girls allowed?” Nick laughed. Dean didn’t hear Sam reply to that one.

He got to the bend in the tunnel and peeked an eye around the corner. From here he had a clear view of Nick standing over Sam. Who was glaring at him. Sam was stretched out on the floor with his arms above his head, probably restrained.

Dean dug the pistol out of his waistband and checked the chamber. Aim high, don’t hit Sam. Kill this son of a bitch.

He turned the corner, leading with the gun, as quietly as he could and stepped closer. Sam saw him first and bless that boy, he couldn’t steele his features. Nick watched Sam’s eyebrows go up and the tilt of his head before turning to meet Dean head on.

“And here he is. The hero. Hey Dean, nice of you to join the party.” Nick pulled his own gun and pointed it right at Sam’s face. “Now, I’m going to have to ask you to hand that over. Or I’m going to decorate your little clubhouse with Sammy’s brains.”

Dean almost growled out loud at the idea of it. Sam started to struggle a bit on the floor and Dean’s eyes fixed on his bound hands. Nick sighed a bit and wiggled the gun at Sam.

“He can’t get out of the way. I can hit him without needing to take my eyes off you. At this point I’d planned on killing him anyway, too much trouble. I decided it’d be a shame to waste such an opportunity, but I will not hesitate to put a Goddamn bullet in his brain!” The last part was shouted out and the man’s grip when white-knuckle on the grip of the pistol.

“Fuck, alright, alright. Don’t shoot,” Dean said putting his free hand up and opening his other hand so the gun hung from his finger by the trigger guard. Nick smirked at him and took a few slow steps forward to retrieve the gun, effectively removing Sam from the line of fire.

“Glad you see it my way, boy. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick for the both of you.” Dean sneered at him and nodded once to Sam.

“You’re forgetting one thing, asshat.” The older man’s eyebrows knitted together a second before he realized his train on Sam was gone. “I’m Batman.” The sound that echoed through the enclosed mine was jarring to say in the least. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth against the ringing in his ears. Dean felt like his eardrums might have ruptured.

Nick looked extremely confused as he stared down at his chest. Blood bubbled from his lips and his own pistol dropped from his loosened grip. Without uttering a sound he dropped to his knees and fell forward into the dirt, his body twitched a few times before going completely still.

Sam squinted his eyes open, his breathing was a bit heavy with the adrenaline and the whole gunshot thing. Dean was over the cooling body and on his knees by Sam’s head in a flash. His hands running over the younger man’s arms and then up to undo the belt. Sam grinned at him as he rubbed the red marks on his wrists.

“So you’re Batman now?” Dean’s eyes went wide in mock shock.

“I’m always Batman! Didn’t you see that flippy move with the gun?” Sam chuckled a bit as he sat up.

“Yeah, I think you’re thinking of Walker, Texas Ranger.” Dean’s mouth fell open and his hands dropped to his thighs.

“Is this really what we’re talking about when I just saved your life from-” The rest of it was muffled as Sam jerked the front of his shirt and covered his lips with his own. Just to be a jerk Dean continued mumbling into the kiss, none of the words being discernable. Sam just pressed harder and tangled his fingers in the blonde hair.

~*~

Sam was staring at himself in the dingy mirror. He was having a hard time focusing his thoughts. Proof of that fact being he briefly made a mental note to get a new bathroom mirror. There was a quiet knock on the door and it opened before he could say anything. He watched in the mirror as Ellen entered, closing the door behind her.

“You okay, sweetie? Almost ready?” she asked when Sam turned to look at her. Without prompting she reached up to straighten the collar of his shirt. He nodded, and smiled gratefully.

“Well, everyone’s ready for you. Do you need more time?” Sam looked down at himself and chuckled a bit.

“No, I’m ready. I’m very ready.” He nodded his head to emphasize his determination. Ellen offered a smile and her elbow. Sam laughed lightly and looped his own arm in hers. They walked out of the bathroom together and left Bobby’s house through the back door.

In the backyard there was a small crowd gathered. The friends and family he’d made since he arrived not so long ago. None of his blood was there, they were no longer considered family. A friend of Bobby’s, Rufus, was standing at the end of the little isle that the chairs bordered. When Rufus cleared his throat Ash hit the button on his computer that started the music.

Everyone stood and turned to look at Sam and Ellen as the woman took her seat next to Jo and Ash. Even though the young man only had eyes for the other man standing next to Rufus. Dean had a pair of black slacks with a white button up shirt, matching Sam. Simple, and classy. Not that there were many options these days, but it suited them just fine.

Benny, the best man, slapped Dean on the shoulder and grinned at his friend. Sam felt like his cheeks must be a little red. It seemed to take forever before he was finally standing next to the blonde, their eyes never leaving each other. Charlie was standing for Sam, holding the small box that contained the ring he’d picked out.

Rufus began speaking once everyone was seated, neither Winchester nor Campbell paying him much attention. The boys wrote their own vows, short and to the point. Promising to love one another, be faithful and supportive, and work together.

Sam’s ring was produced and slid onto Dean’s finger. Dean removed the ring from Sam’s right hand and settled it on his left, signifying the engagement period was over and Sam was now a married man. When Rufus said the final words, “you may kiss your husband”, it was like a magnetic pull. Everyone cheered around them and even that first kiss as an official couple couldn’t wipe the smiles away.

~*~

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Sam arrived. So much had happened. Dean shot Nick dead, through the heart. Ash turned over all the information he had gathered about the criminals dealings, much to the shock of the police. The men that were coming to meet with the crime lord were intercepted and held as well. After that everything slowly seemed to crumble, crime was at a near stand still.

Even though Sam and Dean were now living in Dean’s cabin Bobby decided to stay with Ellen for a few days to give the new couple a little more privacy. The garage had been closed up for a little in the wake of all the excitement and there wasn’t much to get done around the house. It was all the honeymoon Dean figured he needed.

“I can’t believe it’s finally over.” Sam groaned as he dropped his head to the pillow under him.

“I know, almost doesn’t feel real.” Was the reply that was spoken softly over the younger man’s heated skin. Dean continued to kiss and nip his way over Sam’s chest, exploring his husband’s body slowly. He couldn’t help but grin at that thought. Sam was finally his husband.

Sam arched his back and gasped when Dean’s lips closed over a nipple and sucked hard. Dean hummed his approval at the reaction and slid his hand down to fondle his lover’s naked balls, sliding his fingertips flirtatiously over his hole. Sam’s thighs spread almost reflexively, giving his husband more room. He also smiled at the thought.

“Fuck, Dean. Please.” Dean chuckled lightly and kissed his way up Sam’s neck to nibble his jaw.

“That’s the idea, baby.” Then Dean’s hand was gone for Sam’s crotch and he whined while bucking his hips up a bit. It was probably a mere few seconds, but it felt like forever before his fingers were back on Sam’s heated skin, this time slicked up. Dean rubbed over Sam’s crack, slicking everything before tentatively pushing the tip of a finger against the furled pucker. He felt Sam tense under him, but shushed him gently, waiting to move his hand until he felt Sam’s muscles relax.

It didn’t take long and Sam even canted his hips gently up to get Dean moving again. Another soft chuckle as he twisted his finger a bit, earning himself a punched out groan. Sam was clutching at Dean’s shoulders as he was slowly worked open. Dean’s lips never stopped moving over his face and neck, capturing his own lips a few times.

“You ready for me? It might still hurt a bit, but that’ll fade the more we do this.” Sam nodded, looking up into eyes that were now more black than green.

“Then we’ll be doing this a lot, huh?” Dean laughed as he pulled his fingers free and rested his hands on either side of his husband. He wasn’t ever going to get tired of calling Sam that. Then his face got a bit serious for a second.

“Do I need to get a condom?” It was still somewhat of a strange thought, being able to get a man pregnant. Sam bit his bottom lip in thought. He was uncertain of the chances of pregnancy. He knew he didn’t get a period like women still did. He wasn’t sure if he could always get pregnant or if there was a time where he was more likely. It was definitely something he would have to look up. But in the meantime…

Sam shrugged up a shoulder and dared to quirk up the side of his mouth in a half smile. At Dean’s questioning eyes he shook his head and broke into a full fledged grin when Dean did.

“You sure, Sammy?” Dean asked brushing a strand of hair away. Sam nodded again, turning to rub his cheek against Dean’s palm.

“Yeah, positive. What are the odds I’ll get pregnant the first time?”

“Honestly I have no idea. Which is why I asked.” Sam leaned up to kiss him then, bucking lightly against the man on top of him. Dean lowered himself down and ground his cock into Sam’s, making both of them moan.

Then Dean’s hand was back on his dick, slicking it up with new lube and guiding himself to Sam’s loose hole. He gently pushed against the muscle, trying to go slow even though he felt like he was vibrating with the effort. Sam tensed a bit, couldn’t help it, and Dean ran a gently hand up his side. On a shaky breath Dean felt him relax and he pushed again.

Dean groaned and Sam gasped when the tip popped in, then the older man stopped and ran his lips over Sam’s neck. After a few seconds Sam nodded and pushed his hips up a bit. Dean bit his bottom lip and pushed in a little more, stopping every couple of inches to let Sam adjust and relax again.

They worked together, in silence, to make sure everything was okay and when Dean finally, finally, bottomed out they were both coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“You good?” Dean asked rolling his hips a bit. Sam gasped again and nodded, pushing back. Dean got the message loud and clear and he started to pull out just as slowly as he’d pushed in. He only pulled a couple inches before bottoming out again. This time Sam made a little whining noise.

“Just go, I’m fine.” Dean looked down at him, studying his face and his tone. He wasn’t going to hurt his husband. But Sam seemed sincere and so he started moving with more purpose. And holy shit did it feel amazing.

Sam’s channel was slick and smooth, gripping Dean’s cock hard. After a few thrusts the younger man’s hips started moving in time with his husbands, meeting each push and pull with his own. Their pace and breathing picked up in sync with each other.

“Fuck, Sam. I’m sorry, I’m close already,” Dean ground out through clenched teeth. He moved a hand down to circle around Sam’s cock, tugging it in an off rhythm to his thrusts.

“‘S okay,” Sam gasped back at him, amping up his own thrusting as he fucked into Dean’s hand. Sam came first, warm spend all over Dean’s fist. His ass got incredibly tighter with his orgasm and Dean couldn’t stop the shout as he came inside, Sam’s spasming walls milking his release. There was no fucking way in hell he was pulling out.

~*~

A few months later saw Sam in front of that same dingy mirror. Again his thoughts were wandering and he noted that he’d forgotten to get a new one. A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts and he realized he’d been standing there for a while. The door opened, but Dean stayed in the entryway until invited in.

“Did you look?” he asked a bit hesitantly. Sam met his eyes in the mirror and shook his head. Dean let out a breath and nodded.

“Do you want to?” Sam’s question threw him off a bit, but he collected himself and nodded before stepping into the bathroom to stand next to his husband at the sink. Sam motioned the the counter and Dean leaned in to kiss him quickly before grabbing the stick. He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands.

Sam watched him watching the plastic and almost shoved his shoulder with his impatience. Even though he could easily look for himself. Before he got a chance Dean looked up at him with uncertainty in his eyes that contradicted the huge grin on his face. He dropped the stick and wrapped Sam in a giant hug before pulling back and kissing him again.

“What are the fucking odds, dude?” Sam laughed and lifted Dean off the floor before kissing him again.

“Apparently really good. That or I’m really fertile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking HATE long drawn out monologues where the bad guys wind up getting the upper hand or whatever so I didn't do one. Wham, bam, thank you Sam. And we are on to bigger and far better things ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks lovesammy!
> 
> Thanks for all you subscribers, y'all are amazing!
> 
> Thanks for comments, kudos, and bookmarks. You all make me smile!

“Are you scared?” The only sound that answered him was the pounding of his own heart in his ears. He tightened his arm around Sam’s shoulders but there was no other move or sound to try and coax the kid into speaking. Sam took a deep breath and looked up into the green eyes of his husband.

“I don’t know how I feel. Is that weird?” Dean reached down and kissed the younger man’s forehead, an attempt to reassure him.

“No, Sammy. You can feel however you want right now. Even if you have no idea what that is. We’ll figure this out okay? We’ve got some time. You haven’t even seen a doctor yet.” Sam rested his head back on the bare chest and petted his fingers over warm skin. Half a smile quirked up at the goosebumps that followed his touch.

Dean reached down to grab the hand tickling his chest and pulled it up to his lips. Sam let him kiss each finger tip then just hold his hand under his chin.

“We'll be alright, Sam. Im’a take care of you.” Sam only nodded. Because he knew it was the truth.

“Let's not tell yet. Not until we see someone about it?” Dean kissed the top of his head as he squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Of course, Sammy, whatever you want.” The older man could feel the grin against his chest before soft lips caressed the skin in a kiss.

“Whatever I want?” Dean chuckled and poked his ribs with the arm that was around his shoulders. Tickle fighting ensued.

~*~

“Well, Sam, you're definitely pregnant. Congratulations, boys. I'll start you on some prenatal vitamins to take throughout your pregnancy, they are kinda big but important. I can also refer you to a midwife if you're interested.

“Then there's the paperwork to sent to the agency to set you up with billing. The agency can be billed directly. There will be no out of pocket expenses for your medical needs. Any questions?” Dean raised a finger looking a little confused.

“Yeah, uh, midwife?” The doctor smiled and nodded as if it were a common question, putting Dean a little at ease with his lack of knowledge.

“I am a primary care physician. Specialists are rare these days so finding an OB-GYN in these times is a pretty lucky break. Midwives are far more common and just as competent.” Dean nodded as if that answered the question for him but still looked a bit confused. Sam offered him a small smile and a reassuring squeeze of the hand.

Sam had grabbed up every pamphlet that was available in the waiting room - that was really the guys livingroom - of the doctor’s home office. Material on midwives, his new anatomy, a couple about birthing options, and another on nutrition. On the back of one was a list of books available these days on the birthing process and what to expect, baby's first years, and being co-dads.

They left the office with papers confirming his condition, Sam’s stack of reading material and a matching pair of smiles they couldn’t seem to get rid of.

~*~

Dean was working under the hood of a truck in the first bay when Sam ambled in with a backpack over his shoulder.

“Hey there, Sam. How’s it going?” Garth asked looking up from the engine he was rebuilding on a workbench. Dean nearly smacked the back of his head on the hood jumping up to turn around. A genuine grin split his face and he took a couple steps forward to wrap Sam in a hug before remembering he was covered in grease. He gave his husband a quick peck on the cheek instead.

“What’s up, Sam? What’s with the bag?” Dean asked wiping his hands on a shop rag and gesturing toward the pack on Sam’s back. The kid shrugged his shoulders.

“Figured I’d head out to the library. Have some papers to fill out and send to the agency. I can scan documents there. I also figured it’d be a good time to check out some of the books on the reading list,” he paused to shoot a look at Garth, who was shamelessly listening in without even trying to hide it. “You know, just some summer reading.” Dean nodded and looked at the clock on the wall.

“If you wanna wait another hour I could probably go with you. Trucks the only thing in today and it shouldn’t take too long.” Sam smiled again and shook his head.

“It’s fine, I should be back in an hour. We can make dinner together.” Dean frowned and his eyebrows knitted together. He glanced at Garth as well, who was smiling at the both of them, then stepped closer to Sam and lowered his voice.

“I’d rather go with you. What if something happens?” Sam leveled him with an impatient look.

“Dean, don’t start. I’ve been doing errands like this for years now. Back home and now here. At my new home. The library isn’t far, and it isn’t big. I won’t be gone long.” At the sight of Dean’s pout Sam reached forward and ‘booped’ his nose with his finger.

“Yeah, Dean. Pregnant people can maneuver libraries just fine. Don’t tell me you’re going to be one of those chauvinist husbands who don’t let their wives out of their sight.” The married couple gawked at Garth for a moment before Sam turned an angry expression on his husband.

“What the hell? I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone!” Dean’s eyebrows and hands shot up in a defensive maneuver and he started to protest in earnest.

“Whoa, whoa! Settle down boys,” Garth said rising from his chair and approaching with his hands up as well. “It’s alright, no one had to tell me.” He reached up with a grimy finger and placed it to the side of his nose with a sly grin.

“What the fuck does that even mean? Have you been snooping?” Dean accused, now a bit angered. But Sam’s hostility melted away and he even quirked the corner of his mouth up a bit in a shy smile.

“It’s a sixth sense. Sometimes I just know things. Congratulations, guys.” Garth nodded looking between the two. Dean still looked annoyed but Sam had lost all hostility toward either of them.

“Thanks,” he said softly, “just don’t tell anyone, alright? We still want to wait for a little while.” Garth nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course, of course. On your own time. Just be aware, you can’t hide the glow,” Garth winked at him and smacked his shoulder, then returned to his work. This time concentrating more on the engine than the married couple. Sam sighed.

“I’m going to the library now.” His statement was punctuated with a look leveled at Dean that dared him to say anything about it. Sam raised his eyebrows when the older man took in a breath to argue and he shut his mouth with an audible click. Sam’s expression softened and he moved forward to kiss his husbands temple.

“I’ll be careful. And I’ll be right back.” Dean nodded and returned the rag to his back pocket. Sam turned from the garage with a small wave at Garth and got into the car Bobby had given him after the wedding. It was big enough for Sam, clean and nondescript. Just how the boy liked it. Dean watched him leave.

“Marriage, am I right?” Garth scoffed from behind the engine he was tinkering with. Dean shot him a glare that he didn’t catch and turned back to the mechanics under the hood of the truck. He’d get it finished as quickly as possible and try and be cleaned up by the time his husband got home.

~*~

At the library Sam found a cozy corner to set up in. The plush vinyl armchair looked much more comfortable than the hard wooden chairs at the tables. And this one had a coffee table in front of it. Perfect.

Somehow the doctors tests had told the boys Sam was already about eight weeks along. His once flat stomach had a bit of, what he thought was, pudge just under his belly button. His lower back already hurt. Pressure, he’d read. Even so, he couldn’t help but wonder if some of the ‘symptoms’ he was experiencing weren’t there because he knew now.

Like the morning sickness. That had started the day after the doctor visit. So far he wasn’t feeling anything but nausea, except the dry heaving this morning. Luckily Dean was already in the garage and didn’t have a chance to hover. He was hoping it was a fluke and the sickness wasn’t getting worse.

Anyway, he’d called Charlie a couple days ago, the day after the visit, to let he know and ask if he’d need a different contact through the agency. She, of course, was thrilled and insisted she’d take care of everything. Just fill out the paperwork, fax or snail mail to the address she gave and she’d do the rest. He found himself, not for the first time, feeling very grateful for her.

There were only three papers to fill out, and one only needed his signature. The librarian said he could use the scanner by the front desk to fax his documents, if he wished. It took him a few moments to figure out how to work everything but he managed without having to ask.

Finally he just needed to pick out the books and head back home. He was hoping to scan through a couple of them tonight, maybe get Dean interested in a few. He knew his husband liked to read, he just wasn’t sure the material was something that was going to grab his interests.

He was using the libraries old dewey decimal system, that had probably been put together before the meltdown of society, when he turned a corner and found a group of kids sitting on a rug in front of a middle aged woman. There were only five kids there, but the reader was animated and exuberant. Sam rubbed his lower belly subconsciously.

Sam stood and listened to her for ten minutes and couldn’t even tell you what the story was about. He was watching the kids faces. The youngest looked about three and was watching the other children, gauging their reactions, and reacting similarly. Sam chuckled and kicked himself into motion. He needed to find these books and get back home.

With one last look at the happy children on the floor he moved along the shelves and collected what the library had from the list. Maybe after reading he’d have more questions and could find some on his own. Or with help. They’d have to tell people eventually.

The librarian at the counter pursed her lips and looked up at Sam over her glasses as she took down his information and got him a library card. She filled out cards for the books and handed them all over as Sam added them to his back pack. He nodded his thanks and made his way back outside. The sun was resting low in the sky, not quite getting dark yet, and Dean should be done with his work.

They’d make dinner and thumb through the books, maybe watch a movie. It suddenly struck him how domestic the whole thing was. When just a few short months ago he wasn’t sure this was ever going to be possible for him. Living at home he had only ever been a burden. Dean actually wanted him around. Wanted him.

~*~

It was a few days after Sam sent the paperwork in that Charlie called him back. She was just as bubbly and excited as ever and Sam couldn’t help but smile at her.

“This is so great for you guys! Let me know as soon as you find someone to see about the baby. OB’s are going to be scarce, but possible. Or you can see a midwife. Those women, and some men, have been doing that sort of thing since the beginning of time so they know their stuff.” Sam had thanked her and assured her they were still looking.

He was touched by her excitement. The boys really were fond of her. Sam sighed and continued through the phone book for their town. Everyone was listed in the front, the businesses in the back. And if someone had a home business they were listed twice. He was gathering a list of all the midwives in their town. Then he’d ask around to see if anyone had used or knew any of them. Then he’d start interviewing the ones who came most recommended. This was going to take time.

Sam was a little worried Dean might think he was going overboard with the whole interview thing but he was totally for it. He seemed to be rather excited Sam had thought of doing it.

“Yeah! Damn, Sammy, that’s just about genius. We have to find someone who knows about male pregnancy, cause that’s still kinda new, right? But also still knows about babies, cause that’s important. And maybe someone who can explain shit to me, cause I have no idea what’s going on.”

Sam offered him a small, patient smile, and pulled him in for a slow kiss. Once his husbands breathing had gone back down to normal he pulled away and rested their foreheads together.

“It’s going to be fine, Dean. We’ll be fine. You’re going to be a great dad. And you’re definitely smart enough to retain whatever information you need to.” Dean closed his eyes and nodded against Sam’s head.

“Yeah, alright. I just don’t want to screw this up, man.” Sam smiled at him again and pulled away to kiss his forehead.

~*~

The process didn’t take as long as they thought it might. With it being a small town most everyone knew at least a couple of the women who chose midwifery. There were no men in their town who practiced. The woman they chose, Pamela, hadn’t practiced in a couple of years, but it was because she’d been away at a new university. Learning about how men give birth.

That small detail had it sold for both boys. All the other women were knowledgeable, but only through books and secondhand accounts. Pamela had actually helped more than a handful of men birth their babies without having to cut them open. Her outlook was that if nature was making them do it then it was possible for them to do it. Sam bobbed his head in understanding.

By the time they got the financials setup through the agency and picked Ms. Barnes as their midwife Sam was up to ten weeks. And showing.

“Why am I so big?”

“You’re having a baby, baby. Comes with the territory.” Dean’s voice was muffled against Sam’s neck, where he was worrying bruises with his teeth. He moved his hand from the younger man’s hip to caress the small bulge in his tummy. “I think it’s cute.” Sam scoffed and pushed his hand away.

“Cute? I’m getting fat.” He pulled away to turn his head to look at his husband exasperated and a little annoyed. Why wasn’t Dean taking this seriously.

“Fat? You’re not fat, Sam. You’re pregnant. And I think we need to start telling people before the baggy clothes don’t hide it anymore.” Sam glared at him. “I think you’re sexy.” Dean backpedaled. “This bump,” he said caressing with both hands that time, “is our baby. My baby. I put my baby in you, Sam.” Dean leaned down to kiss Sam’s tummy, soothing the anger a bit.

Dean grinned against his skin and slipped his tongue out to lave and tickle. Sam laughed a bit, pushing at Dean’s shoulder. The older man wiggled his eyebrows and kissed down Sam’s happy trail to the waistband of his jeans. With skilled fingers he had the button and zipper open quickly and was sliding them over his hips.

“No, underwear? Sammy, you dirty girl!” Dean teased as Sam’s cock sprung free. Sam hummed appreciatively as Dean licked up the shaft and over the tip. They maintained eye contact until the older man took him down to the base and Sam’s belly blocked his view. He had to sit up on his elbows to see where Dean’s lips connected to him and it pissed him off.

“Jesus Christ! That’s going to get annoying. It’s going to get bigger, Dean, and then you can’t go down on me anymore cause it’ll feel like we’re not even in the same room. When are we going to have to stop having sex? I probably won't even be able to see your face when I’m riding you. Oh, my God, I’m going to get so fat!” Sam was yelling by the time he was done. Dean had sat up halfway through looking at his husband in complete confusion.

Sam bolted from the couch and locked himself in the bathroom. Dean heard the water of the shower running not long after and looked from the empty spot on the couch to the closed bathroom door.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Without knowing what to do Dean did nothing. He was still sitting on the couch when Sam emerged from the bathroom. He peeked his eyes cautiously over the baby book he was reading to see Sam standing in the doorway, a towel slung around his hips, his hair hanging in his face, and the cutest pout drawn on his lips.

He didn’t look at Dean as he crossed the room and dropped to his knees on the floor. Dean set the book aside as Sam leaned in to hug him around the waist. The older man waited patiently for Sam to speak as he petted his hair out of his face and held him close.

“I’m sorry.” The words were muffled, but understood. Dean shook his head as he leaned down to place a kiss on Sam’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, baby. I know hormones are probably making you feel different. I’m here for you, whatever you need. And I can’t promise I won’t get frustrated, but this time I’m good. Okay? We’re good.” Dean soothed his husband. It didn’t take long for Sam to go limp in his arms, his breath even and deep.

“Well, shit,” Dean muttered down at his lap. Sam couldn’t stay on his knees on the hard floor. But he was freaking heavy. It took a bit for him to manhandle the kid to bed, but he did it. Sam might have even woken up, but offered no help. Cheeky brat.

~*~

By the time Sam was eleven weeks along they were seeing Pamela medically, for the first time. She did the standard blood pressure, urine, and iron tests. She noted how Sam was showing a bit and Dean bit back on asking why he didn’t get mad at her for mentioning it.

“Now, I don’t have an ultrasound machine here. But I have a friend that works in the hospital a couple towns over that says we can borrow hers. We’ll have to go there, but the agency will cover everything. It’s a bit soon to tell gender, but I’d like to have a look around and make sure everything is where it needs to be and that all of the babies stuff is in order. You know, placenta, umbilical cord, that sort of thing.” Sam was nodding along as she talked, seemingly stuck on every word.

“Yeah, definitely. How soon can we go?” Pamela laughed good heartedly at his enthusiasm and patted a hand on his knee.

“Easy there, tiger. I can’t go until the weekend, Saturday at the earliest. I still have patients to see. But if you two are free Saturday I’d love to make the trip. Dean?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I can do that. So far nothing pressing and if anything comes in I’ll get one of the guys to cover it.” The smile his husband shot him for agreeing so quickly sent butterflies in his stomach. Sam was, seemingly, all over the place these days. If he could put that look on his face all the time he would.

~*~

Saturday rolled around fast and without many setbacks. Sam seemed happily distracted about the ultrasound and was a little less sensitive to the unknowingly insensitive things Dean did or said. The boys met Pamela at the hospital since she’d used the event to schedule a few other patience in as well. The more she did on one day the fewer trips back and forth. Made sense.

They arrived about fifteen minutes before their appointment time and were shown to a waiting room with a few other pregnant men. Everyone was rather stoic, sitting with their partners or their noses shoved into a magazine. Eyes shifted around the room, taking in everyone’s appearance and condition. Dean almost wanted to scream.

Sam had been looking at the same page for five minutes now and Dean’s knee was bouncing up and down a mile a minute when Pamela finally made her way into the waiting room and called for ‘Winchester’. Sam smiled warmly at her in greeting and tossed the magazine back onto the table.

“How are you today, boys?” she asked easily. Her tone was calm and collected putting both men at ease.

“Good. It was a good week,” Sam said back, sneaking a peek at Dean. Who raised his eyebrows and nodded tightly, until he caught Sam looking. Then he plastered on an exhausted but honest smile. Sam turned away before his husband caught him smirking.

“Alrighty then, Sam, hop on up here. No need to have you change since we’re only gonna take a look. Just roll up your shirt a bit and tuck your pants down, there you go.” Pamela helped him adjust his waistline so she could smear the cold goo on his bulge. Dean tried not to stare at the trimmed pubes peeking out but that was one thing that got to him.

Sam did jump a bit at the feeling of the goo but it warmed quickly and he settled in looking at the blank monitor. Pamela adorned her gloves and grabbed the wand for the machine.

“Alright, so we’re gonna start right up top and move it on down, it’s a little-” her voice cut out abruptly as she moved the wand up and down over his stomach. “Well, now. I haven’t lost my touch.”

“What? What’s going on?” Dean sounded a bit panicked and felt a little bad when the nurse shot him a warning look. Sam was looking from Dean to Pamela with worried eyes.

“Yeah, don’t freak out on me yet there, Dean. Nothing to worry about. I was concerned with Sam’s size. He’s showing a bit more than someone who is almost twelve weeks. And here is why. There’s a couple of babies in his belly.” Dean felt his stomach swoop out of his gut. His vision went black around the edges and his hearing faded.

“Uh, what? Two?” Sam was amazingly put together. His face was a mix between completely terrified and wanting to be excited. He reached blindly for Dean’s hand, never taking his eyes from the screen showing blobs of white.

“Yeah, it’s hard to tell, but if you see… Right here,” she pointed to the first, “and there.” She pointed to another. But then as she moved the wand toward the other side of his belly another blob appeared.

“What the fuck is that?” Dean sounded almost hysterical now as he held Sam’s hand and pointed at the new blob on the monitor. This time the nurse heaved an impatient sigh at him and jotted down something on her clipboard.

“Wow, Sam. Easy there, Dean. That would be another baby. There’s three.” She didn’t sound nearly as calm as when she’d found two, but her voice was still steady.

“Is that okay?” Sam asked pulling Dean closer in the hopes that if he actually did pass out he’d land on the bed.

“So far everything looks great. All your tests are normal, these pictures look fine, no out of place parts. You see here, that’s a hand, a foot, another set of feet. There are no extras or missing pieces. It used to be folks could get their pictures in 4D. Doctors even sent people home with videos and not just pictures. The collapse made that a little difficult and this is the only machine we’ve got around here.

“But I promise, if there was an issue I’d tell you. We’re going to make this a regular thing, okay? We’ll come in and take a look at them to make sure they’re good. But in all honesty as long as your tests in the office are normal you should be just fine.”

Sam took a second to nod at her and process the information. He was fucking pregnant. With fucking triplets! He finally tore his eyes from the screen to look at his husband. Dean’s face was pale, his eyes darting between the monitor and Sam. When he finally locked eyes with Dean a small smile started to form.

“What are you smiling about? We were freaking out over one baby, what are we going to do with three?” Sam smiled wider and pulled harder on Dean’s hand. The older man shuffled closer so he wouldn’t fall over and let Sam grab his face and pepper kisses all over it.

“You know, you don’t get caught off guard too often. It’s kinda a sexy look for you.” Dean’s eyes widened more, if possible, and he looked at Sam incredulously.

“Are you freaking kidding me? Sexy? I’m never having sex again!” Pamela laughed at that and turned off the monitor. She took a few tissue and wiped the goo she’d smeared off of Sam’s stomach. Sam pulled his pants back up and his shirt down.

“I think we should make the big announcement now.” Another weird look from Dean. “Stop making that face or it’s going to stick.” Dean shook his head and wiped a hand down his face.

“Sam, you went around asking people for references for a midwife, I think the cat’s out of the bag.” Sam smiled and shook his head.

“I told who I actually asked I was looking for future reference. Couldn’t be too prepared.” Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded a few times.

“Might work for most people. I’m pretty sure Bobby knows.”

“Well, then, he’s pretty nice to be waiting for us to say something.” Dean scoffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those pregnancy hormones can be insane!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don't be too upset, but it may be a while before I post another. We're taking a 3 day beach weekend in a few days for my husband's birthday. Then my team and I will be getting ready for GISHWHES, then crushing GISHWHES. After that my son starts kindergarten. There's a lot coming up and I'll work when I can, but I don't want to make promises. In the meantime feel free to suggest funny preggo Sam moments. So far I've modeled his experience after a blend of my two. Funny (and true) stories to come.

Dean stared down at the little black and white print out of his kids and raked a hand through his short hair. Their friends and family was gathering in Bobby’s yard for a cookout. Just your average, every day barbeque where the boys were going to announce the triplets. Fucking triplets. At least they wouldn’t be lonely. Sam was taking this surprisingly well. This was turning Dean into a freaking girl.

He fretted for way too long over how they were going to make the announcement. Sam insisting they could just tell people and Dean insisting it’s not how people did this sort of thing. They argued over whether to tell everyone it was more than one baby. Sam thinking if something happened he didn’t want the added strain of people knowing. Dean saying it was going to be obvious. Sam punched his shoulder for calling him fat.

In the end Sam won out on both accounts. They were going to stand up just before everyone ate and announce they were pregnant. With triplets. In all honesty Dean was a little relieved over the simplicity of it. He was having a hard time focusing on things the past couple days.

“Dean, everyone’s here. They’re asking about you, you coming?” He looked up to see Sam leaning a shoulder against the door jam with his arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t even heard the kid come in. He was also going to have to stop referring to Sam as a kid.

“Yeah, ready when you are,” he said as he rubbed his palm on his denim clad thigh. Sam offered a soft smile that looked a little condescending.

“I’ve been ready. I’ve been out there waiting for you. Are you okay? Do you need more time?” Dean smiled back, genuinely.

“No, no I’m fine. But I think I’m the one supposed to be asking you if you’re okay,” he replied standing up and slowly making his way to his husband. He reached out and put his hands on Sam’s hips, pulling him close and rubbing his nose up the side of his throat.

“It’s fine. You’re allowed to be nervous, just, promise you’ll come to me if you start to freak out? We can lean on each other.” Dean nodded against him and kissed his collarbone before pulling away. He went back to the couch and grabbed the ultrasound picture off the cushion.

“Let’s get a move on. People are gonna get antsy.” Sam smiled again and held a hand out for him. They walked outside together and waved at a few people who looked up. Benny and Jim were at the grill, probably arguing about who grilled better. Kevin and Garth were at one of the tables in the middle of, what looked like, a very animated discussion.

There were a few picnic tables pushed together to make one long table; food crowded in the middle. Everyone had brought a side dish to share and it looked like more than they would be able to eat in one sitting.

Sam pulled Dean’s hand up and kissed his knuckles before dropping it and walking up to Ellen and Linda Tran, Ellen hugged him tight and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Dean smiled and made his way to the grill to shake hands with Benny and grab a beer out of the cooler right next to it.

Their friends and family mingled until the food was ready, then everyone was gathered around the picnic tables to eat. Sam laid a hand on Dean’s thigh under the table as everyone settled into laughter and passing plates. The older man gave the younger an impatient look that wasn’t lost on Ellen across the table.

“You got something on your mind, Dean?” Everyone fell silent and their hands slowed on the food as they all turned to look at the boys. Sam looked down, trying to hide a smile while Dean’s face turned beet red. A first sight for a few of the friends gathered.

“Well, out with it boy, don’t make us guess,” Bobby huffed from his spot at the head of the table. Dean leaned back to reach into his pocket for the photo. His face only lightened slightly and he couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

“This, uh,” he stumbled through his words while looking at the picture until Sam sighed exasperated and took it from him.

“We’re pregnant,” Sam announced to the table. It took a few seconds until everyone was expressing their congratulations and clasping hands. Benny, to Dean’s right, clasped him on the back. “There’s three.”

The small crowd went silent, a few odd looks directed at the couple. Dean finally looked up, his fluster evening out over his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, three what?” Kevin leaned forward to ask. Dean heaved an exasperated sigh and snatched the picture back throwing it to the middle of the table.

“There’s three babies. Sam’s gonna have triplets.”

“We are going to have triplets,” Sam corrected looking at his husband softly. He knew this wasn’t easy for him and was actually pretty happy with the way it was going. They stared at each other as the crowd went silent again. Then, like some sort of explosion, everyone was hooting.

Half of them were out of their chairs, hugging, giving high fives, or rounding the table to get at the boys. Dean’s cheeks actually went a little pink and he tried to duck his head away from all the attention but Benny wasn’t going to allow it.

The cajun hauled his friend up off the bench and wrapped him in a bear hug, then passed him off to whoever was next. Garth was right on Sam, but he pulled him out of his seat more gently and hugged him long and careful.

“Well, boys, that didn’t take you so long,” Bobby chortled, smacking Dean a little hard on the back. His smile belied any real heat and Dean smiled back, leaning in to hug his uncle. People around barked laughs at the old man who tried to be crotchety.

It only took about fifteen minutes for the group to settle back into their food, but the chatter remained on babies for the rest of the meal.

“How far along are you?”

“Have you started talking about names?”

“Do you have any weird cravings?”

“How’s the morning sickness?”

“You do know you can still have sex while you’re pregnant right?”

That last one got Dean choking on his food. It was amazing what people felt was their business when someone else was having a baby. Family or not. Dean didn’t feel the least bit bad about using Sam’s condition as an excuse to vacate the party. They’d done what they came to do and he had about enough of everyone’s prying curiosity.

“Alright, we love you guys. But I need to get my husband to bed. It’s not easy making three little humans and with all of today's excitement he’s probably wiped.” Sam dutifully dipped his head and waved at their posse, trying to hunch and look tired. Not that he wasn’t, more like his adrenaline high of being the center of attention hadn’t worn off. He’d be just fine with snuggling his naked husband in bed.

~*~

At thirteen weeks pregnant Sam was definitely showing. In both his physical form and his mental state of mind. Dean was a little fascinated by how it looked like his husband swallowed a whole cantaloupe. He’d never really been this close to a pregnant person before. And now he was up close and personal.

Sam was a little irritable. He wasn’t able to sleep on his stomach anymore, which Dean thought should be no big deal. The older man quickly learned that he shouldn’t tell his pregnant husband things were no big deal.

Sam’s morning sickness seemed to be mislabeled. It didn’t really matter to his stomach what time of day it was. And different things would set him off like no other. One night after a particularly long day at work- sometimes it seemed all the cars in town needed mending at the same time- Sam was hunkered down on the couch in loose sweats and no shirt waiting for Dean to come in.

Dean accidentally burnt the popcorn, and though he immediately threw it outside the smell still lingered in the kitchen for a while. As soon as it wafted into the living room Sam was dry heaving on his way to the bathroom. He never actually vomited though. And Dean made the mistake of mentioning this. Sam fixed him with a glowering stare that could have wilted flowers.

“What? It’s better because nothing comes out? You think it’s fun to sit here with my stomach convulsing until it hurts with no way-” retching sounds and spitting and coughing “-to make it stop is just fine because at least nothing is coming up?” Dean raised his eyebrows and his hands and slowly backed out of the bathroom.

He voluntarily gave Sam the whole bed that night.

~*~

Around fourteen weeks Sam’s cravings really started to kick in. And it wasn’t like everyone or every book said. He didn’t really crave weird stuff. No ice cream with pickles. No watermelon dipped in queso. He didn’t want tabasco and cream cheese on crackers- though that one sounded good to Dean.

No, his cravings were more along the lines of intense need for a specific food right the fuck now. And God help Dean if that food wasn’t in the house. The grocery bill had doubled just to make sure they had a little of everything. Dean even had to hook up one of the extra chest freezers they had received as payment.

Now there were two chest freezers and an extra refrigerator in the shed behind Dean’s cabin. Stocked full of whatever food he could find. And more if something Sam usually wanted was on sale.

Dean was trying really hard to be a good sport. Sam seemed to be on an emotional roller coaster these days and the older man had to remind himself it was the hormones. Hormones put there because he was having a baby. Babies. Dean’s babies. Dean put babies in Sam. Dean was partially to blame for Sam’s temperament these days. There, back on track.

So when Sam woke up in the middle of the night to pee- because he had not one, but three little parasites playing hot potato with his bladder, and they were only parasites when they made him physically uncomfortable- and immediately had to have cheese and crackers Dean dutifully got up as well. It made for some long nights and longer days.

On more than one occasion Dean was very thankful for his ability to stockpile. And the town's ability to have a variety of items, fresh or frozen, in their general store. One evening he came in from the shop to find Sam had gone through three pounds of bacon that day. Just bacon. Not with eggs, or toast, or even a BLT. He sat on the couch and ate nothing but bacon.

The older man tried to put his foot down, because come on that can’t be good for the kids, Sam started to cry. No preamble, no fighting, not even a look of embarrassment. Just water works. A lot of them. Dean immediately abandoned his defense and gathered his husband into his arms. Sam cried on his shoulder as he was rocked and shushed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was just so hungry, and the thought of bacon made my mouth water. And now I can’t stop crying!” Dean rubbed a hand over the back of Sam’s head.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, baby. You’re pregnant. This is completely normal for the situation we’re in. I’m not mad at you, I just want to make sure you and the babies are healthy. They’ll suck all the nutrition right out of you and we all need to healthy and strong.” Sam just nodded his head, forehead pressed to Dean’s neck.

“I take my vitamins,” Sam said, his words muffled against warm skin.

“I know, you’re a good boy. I don’t even have to remind you. See, you’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you, Sam. You’re gonna make the best daddy.” They sat together on the couch, Dean rocking his husband slightly. While Sam was exhausted from making people Dean was exhausted from the whiplash of the ride that was Sam’s emotions.

But they were good.

~*~

Fifteen weeks saw much of the same, though Sam’s morning sickness was a little nicer to him. He didn’t get random bouts of nausea anymore. Most of it was smell induced now. And they’d narrowed down most of what set him off. None of that food was allowed in the house. Popcorn was even added to the list, just incase it were to burn.

Sam was also getting more restless. Dean tried really hard not to coddle him, but anytime his husband tried to do something there was the compulsion to do it for him.

“No, don’t worry about the trash, I’ll take it out.”

“Don’t lift that, baby, you might hurt your back.”

“Careful around that stove, Sam, don’t burn your tummy.” That one had been a huge mistake.

On any other occasion his doting may have been cute. Wanted even. But now Sam just felt like he was being treated like an invalid. He was perfectly capable of taking care of his home and his husband and as this behavior went on he felt more and more irritated by it. Sometimes it even spilled out onto other people..

If Bobby offered to help him with something Sam might snap at him. He’d immediately apologize and even explain why he was irritable, but he could tell some people still didn’t fully understand. He started trying to think up side projects to do. Maybe pick up a hobby. But there wasn’t much he wanted to do around the scrap yard, much less was able to.

Pamela had been warning him about heavy lifting, and until she explained why he had been skeptical. Apparently his stomach wasn’t the only thing changing with his body. Ligaments and joints loosened up to be able to handle the added pressure and weight of the babies. That and the change in his center of gravity as the babies grew. These things combined made it more likely to be accidentally injured. And an injury could land him on bed rest. That’s exactly what he didn’t need.

On Friday morning Dean got up to get ready for work. Usually Sam would rise as well, just to make his husband coffee and kiss him goodbye at the front door. Sometimes even stand there and watch Dean cross the short driveway to the garage. On this Friday Sam stayed in bed just staring at the ceiling.

When Dean returned from the bathroom he stopped in the doorway for a second before making his way to the bed. He leaned over Sam and blocked his view of the ceiling above.

“Hey, babe. You feeling okay this morning?” His voice was soft as his touch when he reached up to cup Sam’s cheek. The younger man’s eyes stung with tears as they began to water. He wasn’t sure why, but he was used to that by now. Maybe.

“I’m fine. Just bored. I’m tired of sitting around. I feel like a fucking incubator most of the time. Like I’m not even human anymore.” Dean’s heart nearly broke. He leaned forward and kissed Sam’s forehead.

“How about I work a half day. Then take you into town for some shopping and dinner? You can pick the place.” Sam smiled as a tear leaked down his temple and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to do that. I know you have enough to do in the garage and you’re tired after a full week.” Dean smiled affectionately back and settled on his elbows next to Sam on the mattress.

“As much as I appreciate you wanting to take care of me I need to go to the hardware store anyway. I have things to pick up for Monday. We can make an evening of it. After I go to my store we can go wherever you want. Maybe get some stuff for the kids? I’ve been able to get some stuff in trade for payment, but maybe you’d like to pick something out? Then you can pick the restaurant.” Sam smiled again, his lips quivering a bit.

“That sounds really nice. Thank you.” Dean kissed the tip of his nose and pushed off the bed.

“I’ll be back around one. Be ready for me,” he said wiggling his eyebrows up and down. Then he was gone. Leaving Sam warm in their bed. The younger man couldn’t wipe the smile off his face all day if he’d tried.

By the time they made it to town Sam was beaming like Dean hadn’t seen in days. Dean, in turn, was beaming for putting that look on Sam’s face. They parked in front of the hardware store and Dean checked the bulletin board before wandering in.

“Help Wanted”

“Puppies for Sale”

“Babysitting”

“Small Engine Repair”

The usual stuff, nothing that stuck out. Sam reached up and took a phone number tab from the babysitting flyer. Dean smiled, even as he pretended not to notice. They split up once they went into the store. Dean grabbed a cart and Sam shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I have a few things to grab that I’m hoping to trade for. Wander around, I know there isn’t much but if you see something you like pick it up. My treat.” Dean punctuated his sentence with a wink and he was off down an aisle.

Dean had picked up a few tools, some nuts and bolts, and a bunch of varying air fresheners and made his way to the counter up front. He put all his stuff on the formica and spread it out so the cashier could tally it all up.

“Whatcha got to offer, boy?” Bill asked looking up at Dean. Most people appreciated a good trade these days over the meager paper monies.

“Well, Bill, I noticed a couple of your shelving units are looking a little rickety. Would be a damn shame if one of the toppled over onto a customer. I’ve got one I could trade, even willing to set it up when I bring it by. Can have it here in the morning.” Bill looked down and surveyed the collection Dean brought forward. Then nodded his head.

“You sure know how to sell a deal, Dean. I’ll be in at eight tomorrow, feel free to drop by anytime after that. I’ll even throw in that pup yo’r boy’s been playing with.” Dean’s eyebrows furrowed a bit and Bill motioned his head to Dean’s left, to the side of the counter. He sidestepped a couple times and looked down to see Sam in the pen with four puppies.

They were crawling all over him, their little nub tails waggling a mile a minute. Tiny pink tongues flicked out at warp speed, flashing sharp little white teeth. The white of their puppy coats clashed with the brown of Sam’s jacket. The look on Sam’s face as he tried to wrangle the pups in his lap around his belly was priceless.

“Oh, for the love,” Dean said pinching the bridge of his nose. A puppy? Really? Sam looked up at him a bit sheepish before turning his own puppy eyes on his husband. Dean would like to blame the little white fur balls but he knew that look was patented Sam.

“Got their tails docked incase you wanna work em with cattle or hogs. Ears are still flopped, protects em from dirt n’ water. Folks before the collapse called em hypoallergenic. Means they got real hair instead of fur. Don’t shed like other dogs.” Dean turned to give Bill a look suggesting he didn’t need his help. Bill smiled slyly and shrugged.

“Don’t need em here, tryin to do a friend a favor. Your boy really took to that one. It’d be a shame to split em up.”

“Not helping, Bill!” Bill chuckled at that and decided to drive it home.

“I’ll even throw in a bag of puppy chow. First one’s on the house.” Sam hefted the puppy he’d been snuggling as he stood and stepped over the metal fence holding them all in.

“Look how cute he is! His name is Paul, and he wants to come home with us,” Sam said scratching behind the pup’s ears. The dog had the side of his face pressed against Sam’s jacket, his jaw hanging open and his tongue flapped out the side. Dean scoffed and shook his head.

“You can’t name him Paul. Pick something else.” Sam’s face fell for a second and his fingers stopped working the puppy’s fur.

“Why not?” he asked- more like pouted- looking down at the little white dog.

“Paul’s a stupid name for a dog. Gotta name him something cool. Sometime I can shout with dignity when he pees on my floor.” Sam looked like someone had just kicked his puppy. Until what Dean was saying caught up with him. The smile in his eyes didn’t quite reflect on his lips as he turned to his husband, who was now back at the counter.

“So I can keep him? We’re taking him home?” Dean couldn’t stop the grin at Sam’s hopeful tone of voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep the damn puppy. But he’s your puppy! You clean him and his mess. You feed him and wash him and walk him.” Sam leapt forward and wrapped Dean in a hug from behind. Bill chuckled from where he was bagging Dean’s other items. Goosebumps peppered Dean’s arms as the little pup licked and pinched the back of his neck with his sharp teeth.

“Alright, c’mon!” He only half meant it as he shrugged Sam off and so dislodging the puppy. He did like the feeling of Sam’s belly on his back.

“I’ll bring the bag of food out to yo’r car,” Bill said rounding the counter to find the dog food down an aisle.

“Yeah, thanks a lot Bill.” The old man ignored the irritated tone and waved a sarcastic you’re welcome.

~*~

The sixteenth week found Sam in higher spirits than he’d been in a while. The puppy was definitely therapeutic and Dean never once regretted saying yes. He also didn’t really fool himself into thinking he had much of a choice.

Sam took to training the little guy with vigor. He’d even gone down to the library to pick up some books on proper technique and puppy behavior. It occurred to Dean after a couple of days this was good practice for a baby. Maybe not three babies. And puppies were not anything like human children. But it brought out a nurturing side of Sam that Dean secretly adored.

He wound up naming the pup Colt. Dean never really understood why, but he wasn’t really about to ask either. It was Sam’s puppy, it was Sam’s decision. And the little dog seemed to make his husband happier than he had been, so there was that.

The little dog seemed to know exactly who his master was. Wherever Sam went you could be sure that pup wasn’t too far behind. BIll, from the hardware store, said he was about three months old. Sam had already taught him to sit and lay down. They were working on heel, which made Dean happy because there really wasn’t much worse than an untrained dog. And Colt’s feet were huge.

Dean did have to put his foot down when it came to the dog sleeping in the bed. The puppy eyes he got from both Sam and Colt honestly rivaled each other, but Dean felt he deserved a win. In the end there were really no hard feelings on Sam’s part. Dean managed to distract him with his mouth.

~*~

By seventeen weeks Dean and Bobby weren’t sure who was growing faster, Sam or Colt. But do not mention this idea to Sam.

Dean came home one afternoon after a short shift. He’d been doing his best to be with Sam as often as possible so if he had no cars to work on he’d let Jo or Garth clean up the garage while he went home. Sometimes being one of the bosses had it’s perks. He found his husband in the kitchen chopping vegetables on the counter.

For a minute Dean leaned against the door jam watching Sam at the counter, his movements a bit stiff as he worked around his belly. Colt had seen Dean immediately and offered him a tail thump on the floor before turning his attention back to his master, who was feeding him scraps of something.

Dumb dog, didn’t even know he wasn’t supposed to like vegetables. Dean shoved off the doorframe and went behind Sam as quietly as possible, then wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. Sam hummed happily and leaned back into his husbands embrace.

“Wanna shower with me?” Dean asked nosing at the soft patch of skin behind Sam’s ear. The younger man wiggled a bit, and laughed as goosebumps crawled over half his body.

“I’m prepping dinner. What if you shower, and I meet you in the bedroom for some snuggles?” Dean fought back a growl at the term. He didn’t snuggle. But for pregnant Sam he would skip the debate. For now.

True to his word Sam was lounging on the sheets in his sweats and a loose t-shirt when Dean walked in. The older man was rubbing a towel over his damp hair, butt naked. Sam cracked an eye open and grinned. Dean really was a beautiful thing to see. Sam smirked when his husband jutted his hip out and struck a pose.

“Stop, you goof. Just come here.” Dean tossed the towel to the floor and crawled up Sam’s legs from the foot of the bed. He ran his hands up the outside of Sam’s thighs and over his hips to push the bottom of his shirt over his beachball belly. Sam whined and closed his eyes but didn’t try and push Dean’s hands away.

“Now you stop. You’re beautiful, Sammy. Don’t hide from me.” Sam whined again, shorter, and cracked open an eye. Dean was running his hands over the swell of Sam’s stomach, almost reverently. The stretchmarks were starting to turn a light purple, even with the ointment Dean had been slathering him with. It wasn’t going to be helped much more.

“I didn’t.” Sam shot back forcing his hands to stay beside him on the bed.

“But you wanted to. You keep calling yourself fat. What do you think happens when you’re growing three people inside of you? You get bigger.” Sam rolled his eyes under his lids and huffed out a sigh. This was not a new conversation. Not by a long shot. But it was one that Dean would have every single day if it meant his husband would believe it someday.

Dean traced his lips over some of the stretch marks, massaging gently and looking up for a reaction in Sam. He settled for the younger man’s face relaxing a bit. Still rubbing the tight skin of his stomach Dean leaned forward and bit the waistband of Sam’s pants, pulling them out. His hands shifted down to grip the fabric at Sam’s hips and pulled down with his teeth.

Sam shifted his hips up to give Dean more room to pull but that was about as useful as he was. He could barely lift the two inches off the bed, not nearly as flexible now as he was when hadn’t felt like an oompa loompa.

In times like these Sam had resigned himself to just lay there with his eyes closed. He loved watching his husband go down on him. The way Dean’s lips got lighter as they stretched around his shaft. How Dean would look up at him through his lashes and make Sam’s breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t wait to see that again.

But for now his view was obscured by his stomach. His giant, in the way, only going to get bigger stomach. He let out a sigh and reached a hand to run through Dean’s hair, and even that was going to be impossible soon. He tried to concentrate on the wet muscle licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. The hot breath on the head before it was enclosed in his husband’s hot mouth.

Everything seemed more sensitive these days. He wasn’t sure if it was because they weren’t as intimate as often, or if his circulation had anything to do with it. Or maybe it was the hormones, his body knowing it was the father of the babies he was growing excited him more. He didn’t really care right now. Dean’s tongue was working magic on the sensitive spot just below his head and he was gyrating his hips to slide in and out little by little.

By the time Dean slid a slick finger forward, and when the hell did he do that, Sam was a sweating panting mess. He couldn’t thrust up very well, which only seemed to excite his partner. Dean found it way too amusing Sam’s own body could restrain him. By the time Dean got two fingers into Sam’s abnormally tight hole the younger man was spilling down his throat on a cry.

Sated and tired Sam went limp on the bed, his body didn’t even twitch at the feel of Dean’s stubbled cheeks brushing the inside of his thigh as he kissed the skin before he pulled up Sam’s pants. Seventeen weeks was almost here. Triplets were often born a few weeks early, sometimes as soon as thirty-three. He could be nearing the middle of his pregnancy. And while that thought was exciting it was also terrifying.

He was tired enough when the kids were inside him. What was he going to do when he had to be chasing them around?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this is half a chapter. I wanted to get something out to hold you over. Irma is on her way and we're getting ready to hunker down and wait her out. On the bright side, I might have plenty of time to write more if we're flooded in. Don't worry too much about me, we're preppers and have been getting ready for this for years. Also, might have some hurricane inspired one-shots after, yay!

Sam woke the morning of his eighteen week appointment with a splitting headache. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head to try and get away from the light. Not for the first time he cursed his belly and his inability to sleep how he wanted. Since he was so far along and with three kids he had to sleep on his side.

“Dean.” He didn't mean for it to come out as a whine, but even the soft spoken word made his eyes throb painfully. His husband grunted next to him and shifted under the covers before settling back without being of any help. Sam cursed him under his breath and tried to roll out of bed onto his feet. Missing by a mile.

The sound of Sam’s giant body thumping to the floor had Dean sitting up and looking around for a threat.

“Sammy?” he asked moving across the mattress to look over the edge. “What are you doing down there, babe? You okay?” Sam groaned and covered his head with his arms, curling as best he could with three kids in the way.

“Hurts,” another whine escaped his throat without permission and he wanted to cry so badly. He knew that would only exacerbate his headache so he kept his emotions in check, or at least as best he could with all the stupid hormones.

“Alright, we got this,” Dean spoke as softly as possible. Wanting to reassure Sam as well as not jar the obvious pain in his head. He got out on his side of the bed and closed the curtains over the window before rounding on his husband.

“C’mon, let’s get you back in here. Want me to call Pamela? I can reschedule your appointment.” Sam shook his head then winced, panting through his renewed battle against tears.

“No, she might be able to help, though. Could you call her and ask what I can do about it?” Dean nodded and grabbed his phone off his bedside table, then made his way to the kitchen so Sam wouldn’t have to cringe through the conversation. He made coffee while the phone rang and shuffled through the fridge for something Sam might like.

“Hello, Dean. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. At least I think so. Sam’s got a real bad headache. He still wants to keep his appointment but is there anything I can give him to help?”

“Start with water, room temperature. If it’s too cold it could make it worse. Dim the lights. After the water if it hasn’t subsided you can give him peppermint tea. I’ll give you guys some cream when I see you in a couple hours. Dean, has he been complaining of anything else lately?” She seemed to be expecting something and Dean stilled his quest for water and looked pensively at the phone.

“Uh, nothing out of the norm. He has been feeling a little nauseous again.” Pamela made a sound he couldn’t quite place and he heard shuffling in the background.

“Alright, let me put some things together for you. Get him settled down and come see me whenever you guys are ready, don’t worry about the appointment time.” Dean nodded as he made his way back to the room with Sam’s water. Pamela didn’t sound upset or worried, it soothed the older man a bit.

“Colt,” Dean barked sharp and low, as not to jolt Sam’s headache. The dog bounded into the room, oblivious of any effort on his human companions part to remain quiet. Dean opened the kitchen door and let the large pup into the yard to do his business and went through the morning routine of filling his food and water bowls.

He made his way back to the bedroom before letting the dog back into the house. Sam was back in bed, on his side facing away from the closed window. His breathing was even, but Dean could tell he wasn’t sleeping.

“Sammy,” he whispered as he wiped a strand of hair off the kid's forehead. “How you feeling, buddy? Pamela said to take you in as soon as you are ready. She’s putting together some stuff for your headache.” Sam only nodded slightly, groaning as he shuffled his legs under the blankets. “Rest up, babe. I’ll be back in a little.”

Instead of letting the dog in Dean took the bowls out to the porch so he wasn’t scratching around the kitchen. Then he made his way to the garage, finding Bobby already elbows deep in an engine. He’d taken the day off for Sam’s appointment, so he didn’t have to worry about calling anyone in to cover for him.

“Hey, Bobby. Mind watching Colt for a little? We’re gonna try and hit Sam’s appointment early. He isn’t feeling well.” The old man grunted and stood, not bothering to wipe his hands.

“Sure, we’ll keep an eye on the pup. Sam gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, Bobby, thanks. He just woke up with a bad headache is all. We’re gonna get to Pamela as soon as it tapers off a bit.” Bobby just nodded and moved back under the hood, ending the conversation. Dean let out a breath through pursed lips and turned back to the house.

Colt would stay on the property. In the three weeks they’d had him he nearly doubled in size. Just by the looks of his paws they knew he was going to be huge. He rarely left the vicinity of the houses and garage. Dean was fairly confident he’d spend the day with Bobby and Benny. Dean’s uncle had yet to admit it but the boy was pretty sure Bobby already loved the pup almost as much as Sam.

A couple hours after his call to Pamela Sam was coaxed out of bed and into a warm shower. The water running over Sam’s face actually did him some good and by the time he got out his vision was less blurry and his eyeballs didn’t hurt. There was still a dull ache somewhere behind his forehead, but he was mobile.

“It’s pretty bright outside, babe. Grab the sunglasses and maybe your hoodie? You can pull up the hood on it to block some of the sun.” Sam shook his head and grabbed the glasses, putting them on before heading out to the car Dean had running. The weather was getting cooler, but the black car in the drive would be baking inside nonetheless.

Dean knew his head must have still been pretty bad just from the fact that Sam nodded his thanks when Dean opened the door. Usually Dean’s doting got him a scowl and something along the lines of “I can do it”.

The older man moved quickly around the front of the car to get behind the wheel, stealing a side glance at his husband. Sam was sitting stiff in the seat, his shoulders hunched slightly, pulling them toward the front of his chest. His trademark bangs were hanging in front of his glasses and his face was pointing toward his lap.

“We’ll be there soon, Sammy. Just try and relax. Pamela will give you something to make it better.” Sam just nodded slightly, holding in a wince. It felt like his brain was bouncing around in his skull every time he moved or the car shifted.

The ride to the hospital felt like it took three times as long. And he knew it wasn’t the case, but it felt like Dean was aiming for the potholes. Dean noticed the rigid lines of his husbands muscles and the furrow of his eyebrows. He wanted to reach over and touch Sam, but was a little surprised- and very grateful -he hadn’t been yelled at yet.

When they arrived Dean pulled up to the front and ran inside to get a wheelchair. His face was taut and worried, his expression nearly blank. On any other day Sam would have fought tooth and nail to being wheeled into the hospital. Now he was just pushing his fingers into his temples and looking down at his lap.

“Can you take him to the front desk?” Dean asked an orderly who had come out with the chair. The guy nodded and started rolling Sam in as Dean jumped back behind the wheel to park Baby in the lot.

By the time he was in the lobby Pamela was kneeling next to Sam’s chair. She stood when she saw him enter and waved him toward a hallway they hadn’t gone down before. Dean followed as she wheeled Sam into a room and dimmed the lights. The tension in Sam’s muscles seemed to flow right out of him. His shoulders relaxed and Dean noticed then just how locked up his muscles were when his whole body melted into the chair.

“Alright, Sam,” Pamela spoke softly kneeling next to him, “About how bad is the pain right now?” Sam removed the sunglasses from his face and absently handed them over his shoulder. He didn’t need to look to know Dean would take them.

“About an eight,” Sam mumbled, he moved slow as Pamela guided him up to sit on the exam table in the corner of the room.

“Are you sure? You look a little wrecked, kid.” Sam huffed a laugh and cringed, then laid back and put a forearm across his eyes. Dean bit back the urge to scold their midwife for making Sam laugh when he’s clearly in pain.

“Alright, kiddo. Anything else going on? And before you try and tell me no be aware that your body language is telling me your pain level is not at an eight.” Sam sighed and relaxed further onto the table.

“I might be a little dizzy, but that could be the headache. Nausea, too. They’re all symptoms, right?” His foxy eyes were squinted as he looked up at Pamela, pointedly not looking at his husband. Who may or may not have been glaring at him a little.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Pamela ignored Dean’s outburst and leaned a little closer to her patient.

“How long, Sam? For all of it. Nausea, dizziness, headaches?” Sam cringed a bit and both his companions knew it wasn’t the pain this time.

“Just a couple weeks. The nausea came back, and I just thought it was the babies, you know. Cause morning sickness and all. Then last week I started having dizzy spells, but I just figured it was my equilibrium. Cause I’m getting bigger and blood flow and all that. Circulation just isn’t the same.” He tried to lighten the mood with another huff of laughter but it was a pretty poor attempt, and he knew it.

“Sam, I’m glad you’re doing your reading. It’s always a good idea to be aware of the changes in your body and what they could cause. However, these are things you need to make known. Even if it’s nothing, I need to be able to determine if it’s nothing. You two sit tight for a minute, I’m going to grab some things to run some tests. Sam, do you have to pee?”

He nodded slightly and moved to sit up.

“Nu-uh. Sit tight, I said. I’m going to get a cup and a bedpan. I need a urine sample for one of the tests.” She handed Sam a gown to change into while she was gone and whisked out the door. Once the handle snicked closed Sam fumbled with whatever he could reach in an attempt to not look at his husband. Who he was sure was glowering at him.

“Sam.” Dean’s tone left nothing to be questioned, and the younger man knew he wasn’t getting out of this with any amount of humor or misplaced anger. He slowly dragged his eyes up to Dean’s and was shocked to see he wasn’t angry at all.

Dean’s eyes were filled with tears and his eyebrows were pulled tightly together.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You’ve been uncomfortable for weeks, you should have told me.” Sam deflated.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said reaching for his husband. Dean leaned in slowly, trying to avoid jostling Sam as much as possible. “I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve been busy in the garage and I’ve had Colt, he’s helped a lot. I just figured the babies were making me weird.” Dean huffed a humorless laugh at that.

“Trust me, babe, it isn’t the babies that make you weird.” Sam shoved half halfheartedly at his shoulder and cracked an actual smile. Dean detangled himself from Sam’s arms and helped him out of his shirt to put on the threadbare gown. Then eased his jeans and boxers down. Sam laid back on the table feeling a little better.

Pamela, true to her word, came back a few minutes after they’d settled with a tray of various instruments. A couple cups, a few vials and a syringe, and some little tabs of paper. She set the tray on a rolling table that was usually used for food and sat down next to Sam, snapping her rubber gloves in place.

“Alright, boys. I don’t want you to get too nervous, but I need you to know what’s going on. We’re going to draw some blood today and test Sam’s urine for protein. Once we get the results we’ll go from there.” She pulled the table to her left elbow as she spoke.

“What’s that gonna do? Why are we looking for protein?” Dean sounded a bit worried, and looked as if he might get slightly hysterical.

“Listen, sometimes people who are otherwise completely healthy can develop something called preeclampsia. What Sam has been experiencing are symptoms of this condition. It usually doesn't occur until about twenty weeks gestation, if it shows up at all, but Sam is pregnant with triplets. Also, Sam could be totally right. These may just be symptoms of his multi-pregnancy. But we do need to be sure.”

“What the hell is preeclampsia?” Sam nearly shouted as he gripped Dean’s fingers a bit too tight.

“Guys, please, we need to relax here. I will explain everything after we get the test results. I don’t want anyone worrying about something that doesn’t exist. So let’s just treat this like any other visit and routine testing.” The boys gave each other a look and Sam nodded at the midwife. She could see neither of them was relaxing but they did stop with the questions.

No one spoke as Pamela took three vials of blood and used a cuff to take Sam’s blood pressure. Dean watched her features with rapt attention, but she was like a stone.

“Alright, fellas. I’m going to drop these off at the lab and come back for the urine. Dean, could you help him pee in the cup? There’s an extra if you spill but I only need one filled. If he still has to go you can use the pan. I’ll be right back.” With that she was gone. They were alone.

“What the hell, Dean? What’s going on?” Sam seemed so small sitting in that bed with that gown and the look on his face like Dean could fix anything. It was times like these it was hard for the older man to remember Sam had three inches on him. He leaned in and kissed Sam’s forehead.

“I don’t know, babe. But I trust Pamela, she’ll get us through whatever comes our way.” Sam nodded.

~*~

“Preeclampsia,” the midwife repeated. She was met with twin stares of, what she could only describe as, ‘what the fuck’. She took a deep breath and sighed it out.

“It’s a condition many people get during pregnancy. It could be nothing or it could complicate things. Usually symptoms include nausea, dizziness, high blood pressure, protein in the urine, that sort of thing. Most cases don’t see anything until twenty weeks gestation, but we think your multiples have contributed to early onset.”

“Great, now they’re trying to kill me,” Sam said dropping his head to the exam table. Dean gave him a disbelieving gasp while Pamela rolled her eyes. And people tried to say women were dramatic.

“Listen, there is very little chance of you coming out of this with lasting effects, let alone death. As long as you do as I say you and the babies will be perfectly healthy.” Sam sighed and closed his eyes, inhaled a few deep breaths, and looked back up at Pamela.

“Alright, what’s first?” he asked as calmly as he could muster.

~*~

“You gotta what?” Bobby sounded just as irritated as Sam had. Dean wiped a hand down his face and tried not to let his exasperation show through his tone.

“Sam needs to spend a couple days in the hospital. They need to monitor his blood pressure and other symptoms for a while to figure out if he can even come home, then what he needs while he’s there.” The younger man rested his forehead on the cool concrete wall next to the nurses desk with the phone up to his ear.

“Fine. What’s that mean for you? You gon’ come get you boy’s stuff? You leavin’ me with the mutt?”

“Bobby, I can’t leave you hanging. I’ll grab some of Sam’s things and I can work the garage during the day and stay with him at night. Usually they don’t allow it but Pamela fought for us and as long as I don’t wander the hospital at night they’ll let me stay. But we do need you to take care of Colt, if it’s not too much.” Bobby scoffed into the phone.

“Shut up, idjit. Come get’cher stuff. You’ll be stayin’ with that boy till you both can come home. The dog’s less hassle than you anyway. Me ‘n the boys got the garage covered.” Dean’s heart swelled even as he shook his head.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Bobby. I haven’t been around near as much with Sam here and I’d feel bad for bailing.”

“Bailing? That boy’s your responsibility now. More so than some job. ‘Sides this just means I’mma take an early retirement with all the days you owe me.” Dean smiled at the light tone in Bobby’s voice, recognizing it for what it was. Even if the words were sometimes harsh the tone and motive behind them were all love.

“Thanks, Bobby. I’ll be by soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world seems to be going a bit crazy right now. Wildfires, floods, hurricanes, earth quakes. Everyone stay safe and help where you can. The only way we get through this is together.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over a month, so for that I am sorry. Life right! Some big things coming up, I'm gonna try and make it not so long for the next one.

Sam spent two days in the hospital under Pamela’s watchful eye. He drove everyone else up a wall. Dean had mixed emotions when they were sent home with instructions to make sure Sam rested. He wanted out of the hospital, but he didn’t want to have to police his husband on his own.

Turns out that Dean didn’t need to do too much convincing to get his husband to rest. Sam was depressed. Pamela’s suggestion for bedrest only extended for a few days after they got home. She just wanted to make sure Sam gave his body time to recuperate. After that he was allowed to be up and moving around as long as he agreed he wouldn’t strain his body.

The babies and Sam’s lives depended on it.

“C’mon, babe. You’ve been in bed all week. You can’t tell me you don’t want to get away from these four walls,” Dean cajoled, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. Sam was in bed, shirtless, with the sheet half over his beach ball stomach. He was staring up at the ceiling.

“Can’t. I’m on bedrest. Have to save the babies.” The older man fought the urge to roll his eyes at the dramatics of his dear husband.

“Are you freaking kidding me? You know damn well that’s not what Pamela meant when she said rest. You also know you still have to move around in order for you to be healthy as well. Let’s get those muscles moving. Just a short trip to town will do you good. Get you some fresh air.” Sam groaned and threw and arm over his eyes.

“Go away!” His voice was muffled under his bicep. Dean all but growled under his breath as he stalked into the room and grabbed Sam’s wrist, pulling his arm away from his face.

“You are going to get up. You are going to get dressed. You are going to accompany me to town so that I can buy you lunch and something pretty. And you’re going to have fun doing it!” Sam’s eyes ran over the taut features of Dean’s face and watered a bit. His bottom lip quivered and his own eyebrows pulled together. Dean had a moment of panic when he thought his plan had backfired.

“You’re cute when you’re all dominating,” Sam said as his face crumbled and the tears started to fall. He reached out for Dean’s hands for assistance in sitting up. Dean’s face still worried as he perched on the bed next to Sam’s hip, arms full of his tearful husband.

“I’m sorry, it’s alright, Sam. I just wanted to do something nice with you,” he said, keeping his voice soft. His hands wandered comfortingly over Sam’s bare bed-warmed skin. Before Dean knew what was happening Sam shifted away from him and nudged him off the bed, swinging his legs over and standing with a bit of work.

“Lemme get dressed and we can go?” Sam offered a watery smile and went to the closet to find jeans and a clean shirt. Dean stood, slightly dazed, by the bed; watching Sam sniffle and wipe at his face as he got dressed. He was really starting to wonder if he was going to survive Sam’s pregnancy and mood swings.

The ride to town was soothing for Sam. He had his window down, the air rushing past the car whipped his hair around his face. If he closed his eyes he felt like he was flying. He wasn’t huge and heavy, there was no anxiety over things he couldn’t control. The small smile on his face lifted Dean’s heavy heart.

There were a few stores Dean wanted to visit. Usually he would park Baby in a central location and they’d walk around to each store. The main strip was where most everything was anyway. But there was no way he was about to make his pregnant recently diagnosed husband walk the sidewalks more than he had too.

Sam was ready to protest when Dean parked right in front of the pharmacy but the stern look the older man leveled him with had him shutting his mouth and ducking his head, attempting to hide the smirk with his hair. Dean saw it.

The boys gathered some things they needed at the house and a few things Pamela suggested to ease some of Sam’s symptoms, should they flare up again. Sam spoke to the cashier about the babies and how he was feeling, his husband noticing when he avoided the preeclampsia discussion. Whatever Sam needed to feel better.

Next was the general store, Dean picked up some parts that were ordered for customers that they didn’t have in the salvage yard. Sam flipped through seed packets that were boxed on the counter, wondering to himself if he’d ever be able to bend over and weed the beds. Then he felt silly for being melodramatic and moved to stand next to Dean at the register.

“Alright, those were my errands,” Dean said as they exited the store and went straight to the Impala. He hefted his packages into the back seat and moved forward to open the door for Sam, who was smiling more earnestly now. “How about a trip to the bookstore?”

“I like books,” Sam said, matter-of-factly, as he dropped himself into the passenger seat. Dean didn’t fight the cringe of his face as the chassis rocked, only because Sam couldn’t see. He climbed behind the wheel and smiled cheekily.

“I know you do, babe. And I haven’t grabbed you any new ones lately. We’ll grab you a few to keep you entertained.” He didn’t have to say why, they both knew it. And while Dean didn’t want to be bringing up Sam’s condition all the time he also didn’t want to have to act like it wasn’t there. Sam seemed amiable to the idea.

They took longer in the bookstore than the other errands combined. Dean followed him around, patiently, as Sam scoured each and every shelf. The tiny book store was packed to the brim with old paper and hardbacks that survived the incident. There were a bunch of handwritten and self bound books as well, that may have been one of a kind if they weren’t copied.

In the end Sam had settled on a hardback, two paperbacks and a handwritten sudoku book. He beamed at his husband while Dean paid at the register. He hadn’t seen Sam this happy in days and it made his chest swell with pride. He’d take his husband here every freaking week if he was going to get this reaction.

As they exited the store, bag in Dean’s hand, Sam paused and kicked his foot out in front of him. The laces of his boots flopped against the sidewalk awkwardly. He sighed, looking far too frustrated over something as simple as an untied shoe. Dean was really happy he didn’t mention it as he watched Sam try and kneel down to tie it.

He couldn’t get his feet close enough to his hands to tie and balance at the same time. Even if he spread his legs and tried to fit his belly between them he couldn’t see his shoes to get the laces right. He grunted as he straightened and looked pathetically at Dean.

“Uh, could you help? I’d usually not care, but I don’t want to trip.” Dean grinned, trying to make it look loving instead of mocking and leaned forward to kiss the tip of Sam’s nose.

“I’d love to help.” He dropped to a knee and reached out for the laces against the sidewalk. Sam standing with his hands on his hips trying not to frown. Which is why, of course, it was this moment that a group of kids rode by on their bikes.

“Hey, mister!” Sam turned toward the sound of the tiny voice. “You can’t tie shoes?” A couple of the other kids laughed, the boy who asked tipped his head to the side a bit. Sam scowled.

“Of course I can! I just can’t reach them!” More laughter, and the kid shrugged and followed his friends off down the street. Dean shook his head and took his time standing up. He knew the look he’d see on Sam’s face, and never in his life had he ever wanted to punch a kid so much.

The entire ride home was silent. Dean could practically feel his husband brooding in the passenger seat. He wanted desperately to say something, but he had a pretty good idea it would only be met with contention. So, as many a wise husband, he kept his mouth shut.

When they pulled up to the house Sam got out and slammed the door behind him, stalking up to the front door. Though, Sam's stalking these days was more of a waddle. The older man, again, refrained from scolding Sam about abusing his Baby. He was growing into a pretty wise man.

They couldn't keep on like this. Sam was miserable. He wasn't talking. He wasn't doing much of anything but stewing in his own misery. Which in turn made Dean miserable. And worried.

Dean heaved a sigh and got out, closing the door more nicely. He took the packages for the shop and dropped them in the garage before grabbing Sam's books and heading inside. After depositing them on the counter he stood in the kitchen way too long, trying to figure out what to do next.

Should he go talk to Sam? Would he just get yelled at? When the hell did Dean Winchester become the guy who was almost afraid to breathe in his own home? He puffed his chest a bit and squared his shoulders. Sam needed a talking to. He moved in the direction of their room and paused with his hand on the door.

The sound of quiet sobbing on the other side had him deflating rather quickly. He rapped his knuckles on the door lightly before opening it and stepping inside. Sam was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his belly nestled in his lap. He had his hands over his face and though he had stopped sobbing Dean could still hear sniffles.

“Hey, babe. Don't worry about that little punk. He's just a dumb kid,” Dean said settling next to Sam on the bed. Sam's breath hitched and he whined as he leaned into his husband's side.

“It's not him. Well, not really.” His words were muffled by the hands he seemingly refused to lower. Dean just rubbed over his back and waited patiently. “He was just a kid, Dean. An innocent little dickwad who didn't know any better.”

Dean wasn't sure he was allowed to laugh, so he stifled the urge and squeezed Sam's shoulder.

“Parenting is hard. And I'm not even one yet. I'm supposed to rest so they don't get hurt. But I also need exercise so they don't get hurt. And I need to eat enough so they don't get hurt. There's so freaking much running around my head all the time. I'm so scared I'm going to ruin their lives before they even begin,” Sam paused to take a breath but Dean was having none of it.

He gripped Sam's face gently and kissed him, effectively cutting off his panicked ramble.

“Balance, baby. It's all about balance. And I'm here to help you. Just tell me what you need, anything you need. And I'll help you.” Sam closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

“But I've been so awful to you-.” Dean kissed him quiet again.

“Listen to me, and listen good. You are young and pregnant. You have three mini us’ wiggling around in there wreaking havoc on your body and your hormones. You are allowed as many moments of freak out that you need, in my opinion.

“Just don't shut me out, okay?” Sam's eyes welled with fresh tears and ne nodded as best he could while still gripped in Dean's strong hands. Dean moved forward slightly to press his lips against Sam’s trembling ones. It nearly broke his heart to see his husband in such a state, but he didn’t know what else to do. Other than offer whatever comfort he could.

Sam kissed him back, show at first, still sniffling his nose. Then the younger man’s lips started moving faster, more desperate. Dean made a pained noise in the back of his throat and pushed gently, pulling away from Sam’s lips. They were still close, noses nearly touching, when Dean looked between Sam’s eyes.

They were red and a little puffy, but they looked clear. Not clouded with confusion or anger. Dean smiled lightly and brushed his nose against Sam’s.

“What do you need, baby?” Sam huffed a light laugh and reached up to grip Dean’s biceps. He sniffled one last time, his nose sounding more clear.

“You, Dean. I need you.”

“I’m right here, Sammy. Not gonna leave you, alright?” Sam nodded against his husband’s forehead and went willingly as Dean leaned forward, pushing him back. He got Sam lying on his back on the bed, knowing he couldn’t lay there with the babies’ weight on his spine for too long. Dean trailed feather light kisses over Sam’s face, the younger man closing his eyes and relaxing into the mattress and Dean’s touch.

Dean did his best to keep from putting weight on Sam’s stomach, not wanting to get him worked up about how big he was at the moment. Even though Dean thought he was gorgeous, Sam thought he was anything but.

He kissed a line down the younger man’s neck, trailing his hands down Sam’s sides at the same time. His lips found the juncture where Sam’s shoulder and throat met and he started sucking gently, swiping with his tongue and scraping with his teeth. While he distracted his husband with his mouth Dean’s hands went to the front of his pants. His button up jeans and belt had been replaced with stretch front jeans and nothing else.

It was easy to peel the material down. Dean shushed against Sam’s skin when the younger man tried to lift his hips to help with his pants.

“I got you, Sam. Just relax. Let me take care of you, that’s all I want to do.” Sam sighed in response, relaxing back again. He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the feel of Dean’s hands and lips and tongue. He could feel himself chubbing up in his boxers and couldn’t help but gyrate his hips a couple times.

Dean’s breath was hot on his throat when he chuckled lightly. Then he was pulling away and moving down to the foot of the bed. He rucked up Sam’s shirt and started kissing over belly as he wormed a hand between his husbands back and the mattress. He lifted confidently with the one hand while he eased Sam’s pants over his ass with the other. Sam did his best to hold still and not help.

“Now, you keep your eyes closed, baby. Just feel, okay?” Sam nodded in lieu of answering as his breath rate increased. Dean continued to explore and love on Sam’s belly, occasionally murmuring to the babies inside. Sam felt tears prick his eyes at how sweet his husband was.

Once Sam’s boxers and jeans were past his ass Dean slowly dragged them down his legs and off, tossing them next to the bed. He kissed his way up one leg from the ankle to the inside of Sam’s knee.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you? All spread out for me, full of my babies, fuck Sam!” Dean punctuated his statement with an almost painful nip to Sam’s inner thigh, making Sam jerk a little in surprise. His cock was pressed tight against the under-swell of his stomach, making it real easy for Dean to lean forward and run the flat of his tongue from the base to the tip.

“Dean, shit!” It has been too long since they’d been intimate. A combination of Sam’s sour mood and both of their exhaustion. Sometimes neither of them had energy to do more than snuggle. Sam had forgotten how good at this Dean was.

The older man laved his tongue around the head of Sam’s cock a few times, the hard flesh pressed against his stomach with nowhere to go. Dean didn’t even need to use his hand to hold it still. Instead he occupied them with offering Sam more; one hand gently rolling or tugging his balls, the other slipping further back to tease his ass.

Sam was a panting mess before Dean even got him in his mouth. He moved back to the base of Sam’s cock and tilted his head sideways, wrapping his lips around the diameter and gently grazing his teeth up the underside. Sam’s hips gave an aborted thrust as a punched out groan was forced from this throat.

“Please, Dean,” his voice was raw and Dean felt the tug on the sheets as Sam gripped them tight. Dean grinned and hummed against his husbands length, earning another groan from Sam.

“Please, what, baby?”

“Fuck off! Please stop teasing!” Sam all but shouted it, and Dean knew that if the younger man could reach around his belly he’d have his fists in Dean’s short hair. Which only reminded Dean about his seed firmly planted in his husband’s womb. He growled again at the thought and engulfed Sam’s cock in one go while he shoved his finger in his ass to the second knuckle.

He could picture the look on Sam’s face, his head thrown back, the cords of muscle in his neck; all just from the sound his husband made. And he gave him no chance to recuperate.

As he nudged his finger in and out lightly he bobbed his head in the same rhythm. His tongue was pressed flat against the underside of Sam’s cock, pressing and swiping as he moved. Sam was a cacophony of noises, an unstopping series of twitches and jerks. He was putty under Dean’s hands and the older man realized, not for the first time, that he would never tire of this.

Sam reached above him and grabbed the bottom of the headboard with both hands, using it to push himself down. He urged his husband on with the grinding of his hips and words of praise and begging in between noises.

Dean scrapped his bottom teeth gently along the bottom of Sam’s shaft and it was over before Sam could think to warn him. The younger man arched his back as best he could and went completely still. Choked moans reached Dean’s ears just as the bitter taste of his husbands come splashed over his tongue.

Dean moaned around Sam’s length, making Sam moan-laugh at the sensation. He swallowed down everything Sam had to offer and went still as the younger man softened in his mouth. Sam’s breath started to slow, and even out. Then Dean increased suction as he slowly pulled off, Sam’s cock making a small pop sound as it slipped from Dean’s lips.

The older man crawled back up his husband’s body, grinning at the look of pure bliss on his face. Sam didn’t open his eyes, but let his head fall to the side when Dean laid on the pillow next to him. They shared chaste kisses, a paradox of the acts committed minutes earlier.

“Oh, my God. I love you,” Sam said slightly slurred and breathless. Dean’s chest swelled with pride and reducing his strong partner to such a pliant state. Dean reached forward and hooked a hand over Sam’s hip, pulling gently.

“C’mon, Sammy. Let’s roll you over, get some pressure off your back.” Sam complied, letting Dean help him rock over so they faced each other. There was some adjusting before they were completely comfortable, then they laid there caressing each other and basking in the afterglow.

Then Sam’s eyes snapped open, a worry line creased between his eyebrows.

“Oh, shit, Dean. I’m sorry,” he said reaching down between them to cup the front of Dean’s jeans. His eyes shot back to Dean’s face after a cursory look down. Dean’s grin was clearly one that tried to convey confidence, but the slight blush on his cheeks was evidence he was slightly embarrassed.

“Dean?”

“I’m good, Sammy,” he said, the smirk turning more wicked, “I already got off.” Sam closed his eyes and groaned again at the implications that his husband got off giving him an orgasm. Best husband ever.

~*~

At nineteen weeks pregnant Sam couldn’t see his feet unless he leaned forward a bit. Which threw him off balance most of the time. Resulting in Dean forbidding him to lean forward to try and look at his feet.

“How am I going to know if my shoes match?” Sam snarked crossing his arms over his chest (which had them mostly resting on his belly). Dean rolled his eyes and smiled back, sarcastically.

“If you can’t see them I guess it doesn’t really matter if they match or not.” This resulted in one of said shoes being chucked at Dean’s head. Dean teased Sam for having bad aim, then asked him how he even picked the shoe up.

He was trying to be funny, he really was. He wasn’t trying to make Sam cry. Dean could admit that sometimes he was a fucking idiot. The result was very good make-up sex.

~*~

At twenty weeks Sam decided he was just going to wear his house slippers everywhere. Dean was oddly relieved at this revelation and brought Sam a brand new pair of fur lined slippers for the colder weather that would be rolling in. More sex.

~*~

At twenty-one weeks Sam’s attitude seemed to do a 180 degree turn. He was moody again, isolating himself in bed. Dean couldn’t even convince him to take Colt out for a walk around the scrap yard, causing the poor dog to wander by himself for exercise. Colt didn’t seem to mind.

By the end of the week Dean had really started to worry. Usually when Sam got into a mood he came out of it after a couple days of being left alone. Dean brought him meals, and tried to get him to eat at the table. He brought in new movies and books to keep him occupied. He never pressed Sam to do anything he didn’t want to.

By the beginning of the twenty-second week Dean was getting fed up. He had been pushing Sam a little harder that day; to get him up, to get him out, to do something other than lay in bed. Sam was also getting tired of Dean’s nagging. There was a storm brewing between them, and it was getting more charged by the minute.

The raised voices drowned out the sound of the dog scratching at the door. Neither man had noticed the storm that had rolled in while they’d been focused on each other. Sam heard Colt’s high pitched yelp from the closed storm door and completely abandoned the loud conversation he’d been having with his husband.

“Oh, so the dog calls and you answer? That’s just great, Sam. You really know how to make a guy feel special.” Sam huffed over his shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t let the dog in while it’s raining. You’re the one who complains when he smells and gets the house all dirty. But let’s leave him outside in terrible weather.” Dean scowled at how much Sam made sense and cursed himself silently for being jealous of a dog. He did not, however, make one move to help Sam towel the dog off at the door before moving further into the house.

Sam did notice and glared at him a couple of times, maintaining eye contact and squinting his eyes in disapproval. Once Colt was mostly dry and all of the mud free he was released to do as he pleased. His people geared up to continue the loud conversation, as Sam called it, that had interrupted them.

“What the fuck is that?” Dean asked, all loud and disapproving. Sam looked to where Dean’s eyes were focused on the couch. Colt had curled up and made himself comfortable right in the middle. And he was licking something that looked like a drown rat.

“Oh, I hope he bring a dead animal inside.” Dean shot him a look that said he knew Sam wasn’t going to do a damn thing about it and stalked toward the couch.

“You know, you’re lucky this mutt is a decent guard dog or he’d be out of here so fucking fast-” Dean cut off his irritated monolog when the dog growled low at his outstretched hand. “Really? I feed you and you’re going to growl at me?” Dean sounded incredulous as he pushed Colt back by a wrist on his throat.

The growl tapered off into a whine as he was forced away from his find. Dean scowled down at the wet ball of fur and grimaced as he reached forward to grip in between two fingers. When he lifted the little thing up he nearly dropped it when it mewled pitifully. Colt whined again in response.

“Oh, my God! It’s alive!” Sam said rushing forward to take whatever it was from Dean, the towel he’d used to dry his dog outstretched to take the bundle from his husband. Dean happily dropped it in Sam’s awaiting hands, who gently rubbed over it with the towel. He wiped off dirt and gently dried fur.

When he opened the towel again both men were staring intently, curious about what the dog dragged in. When a little head poked up with two pointy ears and a tiny triangle nose Dean rolled his eyes and Sam about melted into the floor.

“Colt rescued a kitten!”

“Yeah? I bet that dog isn’t going to feed it.” Sam rolled his eyes this time and elbowed Dean’s side.

“Oh, stop. He’s a helpless little baby. We have to take care of him, at least until we know he’s healthy.” Sam’s eyes were pleading and Dean did his best not to look into them.

“Great idea. We have a giant mutt, three micro people on the way, and now you want to take in a stray kitten.” We could be like the halfway house for animals.” Dean regretted the words as soon as the exited his mouth. Sam was in a mood to take him at face value, ignoring completely any trace of sarcasm in his tone.

“He needs a bath, first. Can you pull some tuna out of the pantry? Don’t mix anything in it, he can’t have condiments or seasonings.” Sam marched, or waddled, off to the kitchen to bathe the new baby in the sink, Colt following closely and keeping an eye on the new commer.

“Fine. I wouldn’t want to waste mayo on the cat anyway. Shit’s expensive,” Dean grumbled as he made his way to the closet outside the kitchen. He missed Sam’s next eyeroll, cause his back was turned.

“Nevermind! It’s a girl!” Sam hollered from the kitchen. And as much as Dean really didn’t want a cat, didn’t really even like cats, he hadn’t seen Sam look like he had a purpose in a while. He sighed as he grabbed a can of fish and closed the pantry doors. Even if he tried to fight it he knew he wasn’t going to win.

Maybe he could just ignore the feline.

~*~

A week later found Sam back in good spirits. Twenty-three weeks gestation had Sam growing more, Pamela said he’d keep getting bigger right up until delivery day. Which Dean was having a bit of an issue believing. Sam was already huge, not that he’d even hint at such a thing.

The kitten, Shottie, and Colt were basically inseparable. Which caused Colt to be spending a lot more time inside. Because the kitten, also, wouldn’t leave Sam for anything.

When Sam was on his self-appointed bed rest, for the babies, Shottie was right there with him for as long as Sam was in bed. When Sam was on the couch, the cat was on Sam. When he was in the kitchen both animals were perched on either side, waiting patiently for whatever scraps they knew their human friend would share.

Dean was pretty sure the turning point in his dislike for the kitten had been when Sam actually, voluntarily, took Colt for a walk around the scrap yard. Dean tipped his chin down and fiddled with a shop rag for a second before looking up through his lashes and asking Sam if he could join them.

Sam had smiled, all dimples, and responded, “Of course, Dean.” The older man was so relieved at Sam’s improved attitude he wasn’t even going to worry about being ashamed at how happy he was to be included. He even snaked his hand into Sam’s as they meandered through the cars, Colt and Shottie playing tag and hide-and-seek in and around the cars.

Dean could hardly take his eyes off of Sam during that walk. He noticed Sam’s face more relaxed, less stress lines. His shoulders weren’t as tense. He looked younger. Dean almost wanted to be angry at that stupid little cat for being able to do something for Sam he wasn’t.

It didn’t take him long to suck it up and just be happy Sam was happy. And if he decided maybe the kitten wasn’t so bad after all then no one really had to know about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, find me on Tumblr, same name. And there are 80 people subscribed to this. What!? That's amazing! Thank you all so much! One more thing, thanks also to those who comment, bookmark and kudo this. Y'all and lovesammy keep me going. (Thanks to lovesammy for beta'ing for me. She fixes so much of my shit!)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Sorry, again, guys about the time it takes me to update. An example of how busy things are right now, this has been done for a few days. And I'm finally sitting at my computer long enough to post it. I hosted Thanksgiving this year, for my first time. It went very well, but it was a lot of work. Thanks for being patient with me. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

“I just don't see how it's a good idea.”

“You don't see how listening to our midwife is a good idea?”

“Dean, how can having surgery seven weeks before I'm full term be the best option? They'll be so small, they need more time to get stronger.”

The boys were on their way home from Sam's latest appointment with Pamela. They'd done another ultrasound and all the babies looked good. They were at a healthy weight for their age and all heart rates were strong.

“Babe, you were there when Pamela explained thirty-three weeks was normal for triplets. And with the preeclampsia she doesn't want to risk more than necessary. Plus, you'll have to have surgery any which way you put it.” The older man got a glare for his troubles and since he was a quick study he shut up.

“I'm strong, Dean. I can take it.” Even though he was a quick study sometimes Sam needed the truth. And who better to give it to him than his husband.

“It's not about how strong you are, Sam. Anyone who knows you knows you're amazing. Waiting longer could risk your health and theirs. I can't lose you.” Dean paused to grab Sam's hand. “I can't raise three babies on my own.” Sam deflated, his shoulders slumped and he gripped Dean's hand harder.

“Fine. You're right. I'm just scared.” Dean chanced looking away from the road to check out Sam's profile. His head was tipped back against the seat and his eyes were closed. Dean raised their hands and kissed his knuckles.

“I'm scared, too, baby. But I believe in you.” Sam smiled at that and leaned over to rest his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean grinned like a loon, sometimes he was right on target.

~*~

Later that evening Sam was napping while Dean prepared dinner for them and the animals. Colt was sitting on the floor a couple feet from Dean with his ears perked up and his eyes intent on the man’s hands. Dean was cutting up raw meat and veggies to make fresh food. Sam had insisted that since they could afford it Colt and Shottie be fed a raw diet. It was more natural. Dean had rolled his eyes and complied without complaint.

The man turned his head a fraction and looked at the dog out of the corner of his eye. The big mutt didn’t move except to roll his huge pink tongue over his lips in anticipation. Dean chuckled lightly and mixed the bowl once more before putting it aside and grabbing a smaller one for the kitten.

“Now, you don’t get veggies. Cat’s only eat meat, apparently. Whoever decided to sit down and watch a cat long enough to determine that they skip on the greens probably needs to get a job. Or a better job.” His monologue went on as he cut up and mixed together the chicken and fish, all the while completely oblivious to how impatient the little cat was getting.

That is until he felt razor sharp pricks in his right leg.

“Ow! What the fuck!” Dean dropped the food and looked down to see Shottie scaling his jeans, looking all too determined to get to her food. “Shit, cat! Relax, it’s coming!” He didn’t bother mixing it one last time, just bent down to set the bowl on the floor. Shottie jumped down and started to purr as she buried her face in her bowl.

“You’re fucking lucky you motivate Sam. Otherwise you’d be out on your ass. I don’t care how much he likes you.” The kitten wasn’t phased and didn’t spare him a glance. Dean rolled his eyes again and went into the living room, grumbling about freeloaders.

~*~

At twenty-four weeks Sam’s belly was making certain positions a little difficult. Missionary was nearly impossible, Dean’s arms would be sore and shaking by the time they’d finished from holding himself up for so long. He couldn’t lay his weight on his husband for fear of squishing the triplets.

Sam hated being on top; he'd complain about crushing Dean or how big he looked in the position. It didn't really seem to help that Dean insisted Sam could gain 300 pounds and still be the hottest man alive. Cause, you know, it was Dean's babies growing in Sam's body. Sam was the man giving him a family he didn't know he'd wanted. There was very little Sam could do to make Dean stop loving him.

Doggie style seemed to be the easiest for Sam, physically and mentally. They'd put a pillow or two under Sam's chest so he could rest his arms, his belly hanging comfortably beneath him.

Currently Dean was positioned behind his husband, hands griped tight on Sam's hips. His movements were slow but purposeful. He pulled Sam back into each thrust, grinding his hips a bit before pulling almost all the way out. Sam was totally lax in Dean's grip, giving himself completely over to what Dean wanted.

The tug in Sam's gut came sudden and built fast. “Oh, shit, Dean.” Sam's voice was slightly muffled by the pillow but Dean could feel him tense slightly under him and he started snapping his hips forward a little faster, grinding in at the angle he'd memorized as Sam's favorite.

“Oh, fuck!” Sam's voice was clear this time as he lifted his head and arched his back. His channel tightened even more around his husbands cock as he came all over the bed beneath him, dragging Dean's orgasm out right after his own.

While Sam would prefer to just sink into the mattress, wet spot or not, these days he had to roll to the side to avoid squishing the triplets. As he rolled Dean slipped out with a hiss, then lowered himself down to rest over Sam, who laughed lightly.

“What are you doing?” He asked shoving his husband’s jaw with his shoulder. Dean closed his eyes and relaxed further onto Sam's side.

“I'm resting, that was hard work. You should know, you were there.” Sam rolled his eyes playfully and wiggled a little under Dean's weight. The older man made no move to elevate any pressure.

“I feel like you’re getting better at that,” Sam huffed out, still slightly breathless. He was going to blame half of that on the babies. For squeezing his lungs up into his chest and squishing them to be half their size. Or whatever.

“I’ll take it. But you’re also getting tighter. Those micro me’s in your belly are pushing down on your pelvis.” Sam craned his neck a bit to look up at his husband; who was pretending to have his eyes closed but wasn’t fooling anyone with the grin he was trying to hide.

“Where did that come from?” Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in mock indignation as he glared down at Sam..

“I read! I know all about what those kids are doing to you. How big they are, the development process. I also know it takes two years after the kids are born for your body to get back to normal. That’s a long fucking time! Is it tripled because there’s three of them?” Sam couldn’t stop the dopey smile that cracked his face if he tried.

“I don’t think it works that way. You’re reading about my pregnancy?” His eyes got a bit glossy and his goofy grin was slightly lovestruck. Dean rolled his eyes and did his best to look annoyed and aloof. Which was difficult while he was blushing.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a wad. The books were lying around and you were snoring so I picked one up.” Dean slid off his husband and Sam rolled to lay half on his back so as not to crush his spine.

“What else do they say?” he asked running fingers through Dean’s hair. Despite the dangerous turn into chick-flick territory Dean leaned into the touch and quirked one corner of his mouth into a grin.

“That your hormones are going to get crazier and not to blame you for your crazy mood swings.” Sam ignored the obvious attempt to change the subject and derail the sweet talk. He smiled sweetly and leaned forward to give his husband a soft kiss. They laid tangled together for a long while.

~*~

Sam’s twenty-fifth week saw his movement a little more restricted. His walks through the salvage yard with Colt and Shottie made him slightly more winded each day. His feet would get sore faster and his lower back ached. He was not enjoying this part of his pregnancy.

Today Dean was in the garage and Sam was getting a bit stir crazy in their cabin. He decided to walk around with Colt a bit, Shottie trailing behind chasing lizards and birds from the various wrecks. He’d decided to take a different route than usual, something shorter with a change in scenery.

What he’d forgotten was the overgrown path that lead to their Batcave.

Now he was standing at the edge of the salvage yard, looking off into the trees. The trail wouldn’t have been discernible for anyone who didn’t know it was there. The animals were oblivious to his inner turmoil as he debated on exploring the cave. He hadn’t been back since Dean shot Nick.

If Dean had been there he hadn’t told Sam, either. The dog was sniffing along the tree line, no doubt on the trail of deer or rabbit. Shottie was still using the cars as an obstacle course, her claws making terrible screeching sounds as she darted around.

Before Sam knew what he was doing his feet were carrying him slowly into the tall grass between the yard and the trees. Even if the trail was completely gone he would have known the way. It was only overgrown by grass, no brush or bushes had made their way onto the path quite yet.

Colt had no such qualms about keeping to the trail; the big dog was crashing through the bushes, stirring up all sorts of critters. Sam barely heard him as his steps became more determined and his heart rate started pounding in his ears. It seemed to take forever to get to the mouth of the cave, and then he stopped.

Right outside in the dirt he’d face planted in. The cave was darker than he remembered. It was a little hard to believe he’d walked in there that first time all that time ago. Maybe it was just his memories making it look scarier. They were like movies playing behind his eyes.

Dean finding him here. Dean helping him bring stuff here to make it their own little hide out. Watching movies. Exploring eachother’s bodies. It seemed like an eternity ago.

Nick threatening him.

He’d felt so helpless. Then the fear when Dean showed up and he had a gun pointed at his head. Sam shivered at the memory, shaking him out of his stupor a bit. He shook his head, called himself silly and turned to walk away. He trudged back down the trail with his hands shoved into his pockets and his eyes on his feet.

Later at dinner Dean kept sneaking glances at him. Or, he thought so. Dean wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was. Sam knew he was being weird, but he couldn’t shake the unease of the day. He questioned why it was so important he go to the cave, why was he upset he didn’t go in? Was it a big deal? Should he try again?

A, not so subtle, clearing of the throat shook him from his thoughts and he looked up to see his husband staring. Sam looked down with a shy smirk and noticed his fork of mashed potatoes halfway lifted to his mouth. A wider grin as he ate it. Then realized it was cold. How long had he been sitting there?

“Got something on your mind, babe?” Sam sighed and dropped his fork, rubbing both hands over his face. Why not?

“I went to the cave today.” Dean’s eyebrows went up, but he didn’t say anything just yet. They sat in silence for a little while until Sam understood Dean was waiting for him to continue.

“I couldn't go inside.” He hated how uncertain he sounded, like he was embarrassed or something. Dean just nodded and took a bite of his roll. Sam huffed, slightly annoyed, and straightened up in his chair.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say? Have you been down there since-” he cut himself off, not being able to say it. Thinking it was one thing. Saying it out loud would be a hundred times worse.

“Just trying to give you time, Sammy. How do you feel? You’ve been quiet since I got home.” Sam deflated, the anger that was simmering in his chest went up in a puff of smoke. He was sure it was all his raging hormones.

“I don’t know. I was… The path was overgrown. The cave looked darker than before. I just stood there. There were some good memories.” Dean smiled at that, as if he knew exactly what Sam was thinking about. “But then, it all goes back to that day.” Dean nodded again, the smile fading.

“I haven’t been back there. You got farther than me, kid.” Sam had long gotten over Dean calling him that. Technically he was younger than his husband, so whatever. It was almost a term of endearment now. In this case it was almost a compliment. Sam just shook his head and tucked back into his meal. Dean said nothing, but watched Sam eat for a few seconds before picking his fork back up and finishing as well.

They cleaned up in silence, but it wasn’t heavy. It was probably the most comfortable silence they’d had in awhile.

~*~

Sam’s twenty-sixth week was miserable. His headaches came back full force and his back hurt something fierce. Heartburn was almost constant and he couldn’t even lay in his bed anymore. He’d been sleeping in the recliner in the livingroom for a few days, just to keep his esophagus elevated.

Dean was just as miserable. He had no way of helping beyond what he’d done to try and make his husband comfortable. It was times like this he was glad the triplets wouldn’t be carried to term. In just seven short weeks Pamela would get them out. And he couldn’t think about that anymore than he already had.

He knew he’d have to be in the room while Sam was on the table. There was no way he was going to make the kid go through that alone. He was nervous, of course, but confident he could keep his cool. Blood didn’t make him queasy, and the promise of holding his babies set butterflies in his stomach.

~*~

Week twenty-seven was a bit better. They had another appointment with Pamela, but she came to the house. She wanted to keep Sam as comfortable and stress free as possible. Colt and Shottie hadn’t left the room, always on watch when their human was down.

“I trust you’ve been relaxing?” Pamela asked with an arch of her brow. Sam smiled and nodded.

“Of course. I can’t even walk across the room without getting dizzy. I just sit here. In my chair. By myself half the day.” Pamela rolled her eyes at him and shoved his shoulder gently.

“Sooner than you know you’ll be beanpole-skinny again and have three tiny humans to keep alive. This is going to feel like a walk in the park later.” Sam closed his eyes and groaned.

“Please don’t tell me that, this fucking sucks.” Pamela laughed lightly and patted the shoulder she’d shoved.

“Yeah, but those little things are going to make you so damned happy all of this will seem totally worth it.” He rubbed a hand over his bulging belly and smiled a bit wistfully. “Now, do I need to bother your husband or can I just let him work and be on my way? He need a talking to? Need me to beat something into him?” Sam shook his head and sighed.

“No, he’s been really great. Even when I get crazy.”

“Good man.”

~*~

Five weeks before the scheduled Caesarian procedure Dean's carelessness caused some turmoil.

It had been a pretty great day, for Sam at least. His body was calm, no pain or dizziness. Dean, on the other hand, had a few setbacks in the garage. A part that he'd really needed, that was promised to him, didn't show. With no explanation. He was backed up, had minimal inventory, and angry clients.

Lucky for his business there were very few places to find a good mechanic, unlucky for him that didn't stop customers from voicing their discontent.

He'd come home after an hour of being chewed out by angry customers to BLT sandwiches and homemade fries. Sam smiled warmly at him and waddled over to give him a kiss and a hug. Dean accepted a quick kiss but held Sam at arms length; he was covered in sweat, dirt, and grease.

Sam's smile faltered a bit, but ne nodded off toward the shower and moved to set the table. When Dean came back out he plopped himself into a chair and grabbed a sandwich, shoving nearly half in his mouth right away. Sam watched him for a moment before tucking into his own meal.

When the older Winchester finished he sat back with a groan and rubbed his stomach. “Shit, Sammy. That was great, just what I needed.” Sam smiled genuinely now, encouraged slightly by his husbands calm.

“Good, I'm glad. Wanna hang out tonight, or are you tired?” Sam ignored how Dean’s shrug stung a little and decided to just be happy they were snuggling on the couch. Besides, how many times in the past few months had Dean been the one who needed to coddle Sam? He could do this for his husband.

They sat in silence for a while, Dean resting on the arm of the couch, Sam sprawled across his chest. Sam ran his fingers over the forearm Dean had slung over his chest. The slight twitches of Dean’s muscles told Sam he was relaxed and might be close to sleep. It was still fairly early and Sam had some things he wanted to discuss, so he shifted slightly and turned his head to look at Dean.

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking; about names, you know?” Dean just nodded and moved forward to kiss Sam’s temple.

“Yeah? Have you picked any yet?” Sam shrugged slightly and shook his head.

“I kinda thought we’d do it together. You know, you make a list and I’ll make a list and we’ll compare and choose. I mean, we’re having three kids. That’s at least six names if they all get middle ones. That’s a lot of names,” Sam said with a huff of laughter at the end. He watched Dean, from the corner of his eye, pinch the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Uh, how about this,” Dean said gently nudging Sam up and rising from the couch, “You just let me know what you want to call them and I’ll do my best to get the names straight. Okay?”

“What? No! Not even close to okay. This is important, at least to me. I’d like your input.” Sam sat back on the couch to give his belly more room.

“I don’t care, Sam. Call them what you want. Family names or-” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew he was fucked.

“Sure. Good idea. We can name them after my father, who basically tried to sell me. Or my uncle who helped. That’s still only two names, and there are three babies.” By the time he was done the younger man was rocking forward trying to balance enough to stand without weaving. His breath was coming out in pants as he got more and more worked up.

Dean ran a hand back through his hair and hesitated to lend a hand, Sam was in a mood now. Rightfully so. And he’d learned, long ago, that this was very shaky ground.

“Listen, babe. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking before I spoke and what I said was stupid. It’s been a rough day, can we turn in for the night and talk more tomorrow?” Sam, finally on his feet, stormed past Dean and into the kitchen.

“Fine. See you tomorrow.” Dean sighed again and against his better judgement nodded and turned back toward their room. He didn’t close the door, even slightly. And he didn’t really fall asleep until Sam turned off the living room light.

The next day was terrible. Sam was giving him the cold shoulder and Dean was getting pretty fed up. He was refusing to talk to the older man other than short, direct answers. And he wouldn’t look him in the eye. Dean was going to be late getting into the garage.

“Listen, Sammy, I said I was sorry okay? Can we get past this?” Sam didn’t bother turning to look at him from where he was in front of the sink washing dishes.

“I heard you. And I appreciate it.”

“Sam! This is getting ridiculous!” Now Sam reeled on him, turning to face him fully and looking rather unthreatening with his fuzzy slippers and baby belly.

“Look, I’m really sorry you had a rough day. I knew you were having a rough day. I made you bacon for dinner and french fries. I tried to let you have some quiet and space. I tried to distract you talking about our children. Nothing worked. Fine. But then you have to say some shit about me making one of the most important decisions about these babies by myself.

“You realize I can’t do this by myself either? Any of it. I don’t want to. You’re here, you have a voice. If you don’t want to talk at the time, fine. I’ll get over that. But don’t try and make it sound like these decisions aren’t important to you. They are all so important.”

Dean was a little taken aback at his husband’s outburst, he really wasn’t thinking about all of that. Sam didn’t even mention his inconsiderate comment, only that he couldn’t do this alone. Kind of like when Dean talked Sam into having the c-section when Pamela suggested. Because Dean couldn’t raise three babies alone.

Sam was trying not to be pregnant alone.

The older man deflated more at the wetness in Sam’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I uh, I have to go.” Sam looked away and nodded, biting his bottom lip. “But I’ll come home tonight with a list, okay? Might not be long but I’ll give it some thought.” The younger man’s eyes shifted back to his husband and Dean wondered if he was imagining the curl at the corners of his mouth.

He stepped toward Sam slowly, chin down, eyes up; and the smile quirked a little more. Sam kept his arms at his sides as Dean slid up next to him and wrapped his own around Sam’s waist. He nuzzled his nose to the ticklish spot right behind Sam’s ear and chuckled lightly at the shiver that ran through him.

“I’ll be back tonight. We can hang out and talk about names. Then maybe I can see how loud I can get you to scream mine.”

“Dean!” Sam laughed and smacked his husband’s arm. He was still smiling after the door closed behind Dean on his way out.

~*~

A few days after the four week mark, a blissful Saturday, the boys had an unexpected visitor.

“Hola! It’s me, open up guys!” The voice was not accompanied by any knocking, but at least the guy didn’t just let himself in. It was one of those rare moments when Sam was napping in his own bed, on his side, with his husband. Sleeping in the recliner was doing wonders for his heart burn, but did nothing to help his back.

Dean rose from behind his husband with a heavy sigh and ignored Sam’s chuckle as he left the room. Garth was standing at the storm door, grinning from ear to ear, with a bag in his arms. Dean opened the door, knowing he wasn’t going to get rid of the guy, and invited him in.

“Heya, Dean! How’s your weekend?” The enthusiasm with which the man spoke might sound forced or unnatural on anyone else, but Garth pulled it off. With gusto. His greeting was delivered with a slap on the shoulder, the hand only moving away when Dean glared at it. Garth was undeterred and made his way to the couch without waiting for an answer.

Seconds later Sam emerged from the bedroom door, stretching slowly so as not to pull a muscle. Garth’s face lit up again and he rose to greet his other friend.

“Hey, Sam! How are you feeling?” Sam smiled back, slapping Garth on the back when he was given a hug.

“We’re good, buddy. Just taking an afternoon nap.” Sam snuck a look over at Dean who just raised his eyebrows and sank down into Sam’s recliner.

“Yeah, yeah. Must be nice to just lay around.” The boys shared another annoyed look before Dean huffed and sat forward, elbows on his knees.

“So what’s up, Garth?” His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, as if he’d forgotten why he’d made the impromptu visit.

“Here! I got you some stuff. Just stuff that was laying around at the store, thought you’d like it, Sam.” Garth put the bag down on the coffee table and opened it up. He pulled out a thin blue book and held it out to Sam, who looked to Dean as he took it.

“It’s a baby book. For memories and stuff. Shit, Garth, I didn’t know they made these!” Garth beamed at the men in front of him.

“Well, they don’t anymore. Used to be all the rage. Everyone writing everything down, couldn’t forget any of it. This one is pretty old, but hasn’t been written in and in pretty good shape. Bess only had the one, so you’re just going to have to use it for all the little guys in there.” Sam smiled at the book in his hands as he flipped through the pages.

Dean even cracked a smile to see the look on his husband’s face. Sometimes Garth came through pretty well.

The rest of the contents were various toys and some blankets. Nothing too extravagant. Garth stayed for dinner and the three chatted and caught up until it was dark.

~*~

Sam started getting nervous around the three week mark. Dean came in from lunch one day to find his husband sitting on the couch staring off into space. He’d had to call Sam’s name twice before he snapped out of it.

“Okay, longer lunch. Let’s hang out, what’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean slumped down onto the worn sofa next to Sam and patted his knee. Sam started to shake his head but a stern look from Dean convinced him otherwise. Instead he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.

“Just nervous I guess. It’s getting close to when Pamela is going to take them out. There’s just so much that could go wrong.” Dean nodded for a second.

“Yeah, there is.” Sam looked at him incredulously.

“You’re supposed to make me feel better not validate my worries!” Dean smiled and nodded again. Then calmly spoke.

“There is a lot that could go wrong, Sam. I’m not going to lie about it. But we know everything, and we’re preparing for some of those things. Pamela is awesome. We’ve got a great hospital at our disposal. We are as prepared as we can get, and worrying isn’t going help anything.” Sam deflated slightly at that, his look changing to tired.

“You’re right.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. Now, what are we planning to call these little ankle biters?” Sam rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“Well, we’re not going to call them ankle biters. But I had a couple ideas.” Dean nodded and quirked a smile as he took a slip of paper from his pocket. He carefully unfolded it and handed it to Sam. The younger man’s eyes widened slightly when he saw the list of names.

“Dean,” Sam said it a little breathlessly.

“I’ve been working on it,” Dean replied as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, “I don’t have a lot, but those are the ones I like.” Sam grinned wider as he read of the names on the list.

“Robert is on my list, too. And Charles. Maybe we could come up with one more, and the people we’re naming them after can be middle names. Then we just need names we both like for the first names. And they have to sound good cause our kids can’t have bad names.” Dean huffed out a laugh and smiled at his husband.

“Sounds good to me, Sammy.”

~*~

The two week mark came and went quickly. Pamela had given Sam a list of things he’d probably need at the hospital. Another list for things to have at home for after the birth. Benny dropped off an old crib someone from town had donated. Dean was going to build a second, they just had to find a third.

The house was looking a little crowded, but Dean and Benny had been working on plans to add a room onto the side. Maybe after that, if everything went well, Sam would ask for a bigger kitchen.

There were boxes of diapers and wipes stacked up, bottles, rags, an array of soaps, lotions and creams. Dean had no idea babies needed so much crap. And he was having three babies.

It was that thought, at the end of the week, that nearly knocked him on his ass. In a week’s time he was going to have three kids. He felt a little light headed.

~*~

The final countdown was a bit nerve wracking. Dean worked more hours in the shop, trying to get everything out by the time they had Sam’s appointment. Benny, Garth, Jo and Bobby were going to keep it going, but being without one guy would still slow them down. Dean had taken off two weeks to stay with Sam and the kids.

Bobby had offered him more, but he was insistent two would be enough. Bobby had his own secret plans.

Sam seemed oddly calm all week. Nothing but soft smiles and quick caresses. Dean even caught him humming every now and then. It calmed Dean a bit that Sam wasn’t freaking out. Dean was freaking out enough for the both of them. Only on the inside, of course.

The morning of the appointment was a bit different.

Sam and Dean woke about the same time. Dean had stayed the night in the living room with Sam, their bed was getting lonely with Sam sleeping in the recliner. Dean made coffee and breakfast and dressed to go to the hospital. Sam sat in his chair and read through an old newspaper. Which was strange. Sam hardly ever cared about the newspaper. Let alone an old issue.

Dean decided to leave him be for a bit and pack things up. Sam surely saw him gathering their bags and getting the house ready for a few days at the hospital, but he still said nothing.

It was about an hour before they had to leave until Dean stepped in front of his husband and stood there until Sam looked up at him.

“You gonna start getting ready? Or do I have to do that, too?” Sam offered a rather large, totally fake smile, and shook his head.

“Oh, uh. I don’t want to. We don’t have to go today.” Without waiting to see what Dean would do or say Sam looked back down at the paper he wasn’t actually reading. Yup, here we go.

“Sammy.” The tone is both cajoling and warning at the same time. The brat doesn’t even look up from staring at the page and just shakes his head a little.

“It’s fine, Dean. I feel fine. We could probably wait a couple more weeks. Give the babies time to get bigger and stronger.” Dean runs a hand roughly down his face and plants himself on the coffee table in front of his husband.

“Sam. We need to get going. Pamela has an appointment for you to get the kids. We can’t be late. I know you’re nervous but you know Pamela has everything under control.” Sam sighed through his nose and kept staring until Dean snatched the paper from him, getting a bitch-face in return.

“Dean, what if it isn’t about that? What if I’m just not ready to be a parent?” Dean’s face softened immediately.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed as he leaned forward and grabbed Sam’s face in his hands. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on Sam’s forehead, the younger man reaching up to hold Dean’s wrists. “Everything is going to be great. We are as ready as we could be. More prepared than a lot of people, I can tell you that.

“We have an amazing support system. Tons of friends that can’t wait to hold the babies. Which is good, cause there’s gonna be three of em. Everyone is going to be just fine.” By the time he was finished Sam’s eyes were wet and his chin trembled slightly. Nodding was all he could do, for fear that if he opened his mouth he was going to start crying.

“Now come on. We’ve got an operating table to catch.” Sam huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND... The next chapter will probably be the last for a while. I have an outline for my next installment of Shift and someone to beta for me so I'd like to get that pumped out. Thanks for following this, it has been quite the journey.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'd like to apologize for this taking so long. I could bombard you with excuses but instead I'll leave it at thanks, and enjoy.  
> Thank you to my beta, lovesammy, for the prompt and the inspiration and the bouncing of ideas. They have been awesome through the whole thing.

Pamela greeted the boys in the waiting room with a wide grin.  She had her hands clasped in front of her and was rotating slowly on her hips, almost looking giddy.

 

“Good morning, Sam, Dean.  How are we feeling today?”  Sam offered her a smile he hoped wasn’t as nervous as he felt.  Dean nodded his head and slid an arm around Sam’s waist.

 

“Doing well, made it here, anyway.  Sam wouldn’t let me get him a wheelchair.”  Pamela chuckled at the eye roll Sam gave his husband and reached forward for Sam’s hand, pulling him from Dean.

 

“He’s going to need more downtime after the surgery, let’s let him get on his feet as often as he wants until then.”  Pamela had her hand wrapped around Sam’s elbow as they walked arm in arm down the hallway.  Sam turned, petulantly, and stuck his tongue out at the older man.

 

“Sure, gang up on Dean.  Dean can take it.  Dean isn’t nervous at all.”

 

“Stop talking in the third person.”  Dean stuck his tongue back out at Sam.

 

They were lead down a maze of hallways they’d never been in before until, finally, Pamela stopped at a door in what appeared to be the maternity ward.  She had been chatting idly the entire time, Sam suspected to keep his mind busy.

 

“Alrighty, you boys go on in and get settled.  Sam, if you’re feeling up to it go ahead and change into the hospital gown.  I’ll be right back with the doctor to go over the procedure with you.  After that, if you haven’t changed you’ll need to, a nurse will come in and get you hooked up and prepped for the OR.

 

There’s nothing to worry about boys.  Dr. Edlund and I have done this countless times together and he’s done it more than double that without me.”  She winked at them as she left, closing the door behind her.

 

Sam sat down on the raised hospital bed and sagged his shoulders.  He couldn’t bend very far before his belly stopped him, it almost looked as if the babies were propping him up.  Dean stepped closer and rubbed a hand up his husband’s back.

 

“You wanna change now, or later?”  Sam shrugged and leaned into Dean’s chest, wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist.

 

“Half.”

 

“What?”  Dean chuckled slightly.

 

“I’ll put the gown on over my jeans.  I wanna see where they’re going to make the incision.  And I’m pretty sure I’ll be naked under the gown for the procedure.”  Dean warred with himself for a few seconds over the next comment he wanted to make.  The dark side won.

 

“I don’t think you’ll be able to see it, Sammy.  You’re tummy’s too big.”  Sam sat up and slapped Dean’s hands away from him.  He tried to glare but couldn’t keep the smirk from his lips.

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

~*~

 

The waiting was the worst part.  Dean was trying to distract him from thinking too much about it, and Sam was grateful.  It just wasn’t working too well.  The younger man was getting more annoyed than relieved.

 

“Hey, Dean, why don’t you go grab us a couple cups of coffee, huh?”  Sam tried to sound nonchalant, tried to keep any hint of annoyance out of his tone.  But he was really pregnant, and nervous, and annoyed.  Dean rubbed an exasperated hand down his face and sighed at his husband.

 

“C’mon, Sam.  You know you can’t have anything to eat or drink.  In case they have to put you under.”  Shit, he did know that.  He’d just forgotten.  Maybe the only thing about his nerves that didn’t suck was his complete lack of a loss of appetite.

 

“Yeah, I forgot,” he mumbled as he let his head fall back onto the pillowed cushion of the hospital bed.  It felt like he’d been there for every.  Hours, days even.  The boys fell into a comfortable silence as Dean picked away at a stray string on his shirt.  Sam must have dozed off, amazingly enough, because the next thing he knew the door was opening.

 

“Hello my favorite Winchesters!” Pamela greeted with her usual gusto.  She was followed into the room by a nurse and the two started poking and prodding at the younger man.  He was given an IV and the nurse drew some blood before eying his jeans under the gown.

 

“Time for these?” he asked, not wanting to give up this last bit of comfort.  The look Pamela gave him told him she knew exactly what was going on, and it was time.  He hefted out a sigh and didn’t look at anyone as he shimmied the denim down his thighs.  Dean reached up to help, there was only so far Sam could wiggle.

 

The nurse offered a thin sheet for his modesty so they could upturn his gown and mark where the insision would go and talk the boys through the procedure.  Sam had been hoping the run through would give him peace of mind, but he was still so nervous.

 

“It's okay, babe.  The hospital has everything they need to keep you safe.  In just a few hours we're going to be dads.  You can do this, man.  You got this,” Dean said as he cupped Sam's face in his hands.  They touched foreheads as Sam nodded and gave him a small smile.

 

“We got this.”

 

~*~

 

As Sam was wheeled through the hallway the clock ticking away on the wall told him it had only been two hours since they’d arrived at the hospital.  It felt like days.  Dean trudged along next to the bed, a hand holding Sam’s and looking as confident as he could muster.  Sam really did love his husband.

 

Pamela followed behind the nurses that steered the bed until they arrived in the OR.  She went into a seperate room to scrub in as the personnel who were already ready moved Sam onto the operating table and got him prepped.

 

Dean was given scrubs and gloves but didn’t wash up.  He was told he would be allowed to sit next to Sam’s head, and not touch anything past the curtain.  Once the curtain was up Sam’s gown was moved aside so the nurse could clean the area and mark the incision.  Dean continued to hold Sam’s hand, after it was strapped down, and ran his fingers through his husband’s hair.

 

“We’re almost there, baby.  How you doin’?”  Sam pressed his lips together and nodded once, tightly, in an attempt to reassure the older man.  Dean saw right through the false bravado, but nodded back and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

 

“Alright, grumpy!  You boys ready to go?”  Sam couldn’t move too much, but Dean looked up to see Pamela walking in, her hands up by her shoulders, and three plastic incubators rolling in behind her.

 

“Um, what the fuck is that?” Dean asked as he sat up a little straighter.  Sam’s eyes widened a bit and he tried to crane his neck to see what Dean was talking about.

 

“Settle down, Dad.  These are the incubators we discussed.  Since the babies are not full term they’ll have less body fat and won’t be able to regulate their temperature as easily.  These will keep them comfortable until they’re a bit bigger,” she explained, walking up to stand next to Sam on the other side of the divider.

 

“We’re going to start with separate containers for each baby, depending on how they do they can be put together to help recovery.”  Dean nodded then, remembering the discussion about how some babies did better when placed skin-on-skin with a sibling.

 

Machines were turned on and things started to beep.  Everything seemed to be gearing up pretty quickly.  Sam watched the faces of the nurses and the doctors and Pamela carefully, no one seemed to think anything was off.  He took a few deep breaths and stared up at the ceiling, willing his heart to stay calm.

 

Dean’s finger returned to their stroking and Sam relaxed a little more, closing his eyes and concentrating on his husband’s touch.

 

“Alright, Sam.  You ready?”  It was Pamela who spoke.  She sounded so cool and in control, and Sam really appreciated it.  He nodded, then spoke.

 

“Yep.  Let’s get this show on the road.”  Her hearty cackling brought a slight smile to his lips and he kept his eyes closed as people shuffled around him.

 

“Okay, first we’re going to put this in your IV.  It’s a mild sedative, just to help you relax.  It wont put you out, so don’t worry about fighting it.  Then we’re going to do the local anesthetic to numb the area.  I’ll let you know when we make the cut, but you wont feel anything.  Maybe a little pressure.”  Sam nodded, keeping his eyes closed and his mind on Dean’s fingers.

 

The steady beep of the machines was oddly comforting as the doctor and Pamela murmured back and forth to each other.  There was the gentle clang of the metal instruments and the swishing of gowns.

 

His eyes flew open when he felt the pressure he was warned about.  Sam honestly expected pain, and gritted his teeth, tensing what muscles he could feel in anticipation for it.  Dean’s hand came down from carding through his hair to rest on his cheek.  His husband leaned forward to press his lips to Sam’s forehead.

 

“How you doin’, babe?”  Sam smiled as best he could and nodded his head, locking eyes with the other man and allowed himself to be comforted.  Then he heard the doctor curse.  His eyebrows furrowed as he started getting cold.

 

“Damn, get them out.  They have to come out now!”  Pamela sounded worried.  Dean gripped Sam’s hand a little tighter and tried to look around the curtain but a nurse stepped in the way.  A machine started beeping louder and faster and Sam couldn’t pull enough thoughts together to figure out what was going on.

 

“Dean?” he asked, though his voice sounded foreign to his ears.  Dean looked down at Sam.  His lips were moving but Sam couldn’t hear anything over the beeping and a rushing in his ears.  He relaxed back into the bed and his eyelids fluttered a bit before he smiled dopely and licked his lips.

 

“Love you.”

 

~*~

 

“Sam?  Sam!  Sammy, man, c’mon!  Pamela!”  Dean was smacking Sam’s cheek, not so lightly.  The machines were going crazy and the gloves of the doctor and nurses he could see were stained bright red.

 

“Dean, stay with Sam, okay?  Stay with him, talk to him.”  Pamela’s tone was that of someone trying to remain calm.  Dean’s breath picked up as he looked back down at his husband, who had started turning a bit pale.

 

“He’s out, Pamela.  Passed out, what the fuck is going on?  His lips are fucking blue!”

 

“Shit,” the doctor cursed under her breath again.  She hurriedly ordered a nurse to call down for blood.  Why did they need blood?  Dean’s head started swimming, he fought to keep it together.

 

“Pamela!”

 

“Dean!  The placenta tore, he’s bleeding a lot.  We have to get the babies out before the blood in the umbilical cord starts to drain.  You need to stay calm, cause freaking out is going to make more work for us.”

 

Dean suddenly got light headed and his vision blacked out on the edges.  He was sure it was sheer willpower that kept him from passing out right then.  The knowledge that one or more of the nurses would have to leave Sam to get him off the floor.  He squeezed Sam’s hand and watched as one baby was passed off to an awaiting nurse.

 

The thing was tiny, blue and not moving.  Dean felt sick.  Nausea washed over him and he had to look back down at Sam and swallow the saliva that gathered in his mouth.  He’d promised his husband everything would be okay.  His heart ached in his chest at the realization he could lose them all.

 

Then there was a screech from across the room.  His head shot up in time to see another baby being passed to a nurse, the first one was at a table across the room thrashing his arms and screaming his tiny head off.  Another wave of vertigo passed and Dean thought if this kept up he wouldn’t be able to walk again.

 

“Oh, Sam!  Oh, shit, Sam!  He’s alive, he’s good.  He’s crying, baby, can you hear him?”  Dean was cradling Sam’s head in his hands and whispering against his temple, a tear sliding down his cheek.  The second baby started to cry and he squeezed his eyes shut and sobbed out a breath.

 

The doors to the room opened and he looked up to see a nurse rush in with an arm full of blood bags.  The third baby was passed off and a team of nurses huddled in around the doctor, passing instruments and gauze and things Dean had no idea what they were.

 

Multiple blood bags were hung and hooked to IV’s to start pumping back into Sam’s body.  The doctor rushed to stop the bleeding and get the afterbirth out so that the new blood could do it’s work.

 

When the third baby cried out so did Dean, more tears streaming down his face.

 

“They’re all good, Sammy.  All of em are good.  It’s your turn, okay?  You gotta make those machine’s stop.  There’s no fucking way I can do this without you.”  His whispers were drowned out by the loud machines, Pamela almost couldn’t be heard.  She had abandoned her post at Sam’s side, leaving room for a nurse. And placed her now ungloved hand on his shoulder.

 

“Dean, do you want to see the boys?” she asked gently.

 

“Are they okay?” he replied, snuffling in a breath and gripping Sam’s hair a bit.  She smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and nodded.  He shook his head.

 

“Then no, I need to stay with him.  Stay with them for me?  Make sure they’re okay?”  The midwife pressed her lips together and nodded, squeezing his shoulder once before turning back to check on the triplets.

 

Dean continued to whisper in Sam’s ear, caressing his hair and face and praying to whoever would listen for the machine’s to stop.

 

~*~

 

It was dark, well past visiting hours, and the hospital was quiet and dim.  Dean sat in a rocking chair in the NICU, his shirt was unbuttoned and he had a tiny body curled to his chest.  The only thing on the baby was a diaper and socks.  Dean’s eyes were closed but Pamela knew he was awake from the motion of the chair.

 

He’d been taking turns holding each of the babies to his bare chest.  Skin on skin contact was good for them.  Especially such small babies.  And the bonding with their father was just as beneficial to their recovery.

 

Each little boy came out healthy considering their circumstances, but Dean insisted they be put together anyway.  They switched out the three smaller incubators for a larger one and put all three boys in it.  It sat within arms reach of their father at all times.  Pamela knocked gently on the doorframe.

 

Dean looked up and offered her a small smile, his eyes filling with tears just seeing their midwife.

 

“How are you?” she whispered.  They both knew it was pointless.  He was the only adult in the NICU right now and their conversation wouldn’t wake the newborns.  Maybe it was just the night that insisted stillness.

 

Dean shrugged a shoulder and leaned down to brush his lips over the full head of chestnut hair resting on his collarbone.

 

“We’ll survive,” he mumbled against the warm little one in his arms.  His hands almost covered the entirety of his son and he wondered how in the world he was going to not break something so small.  The midwife nodded her head and stood in the doorway a little longer, shifting on her feet.

 

Dean looked back up at her and raised a questioning eyebrow.  She bit her bottom lip and looked down at the floor and he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts.  When she looked back up at him there was sorrow in her eyes.

 

“Dean, I am so sorry.  For how everything went down today.”  She took another breath to continue, but stopped when he shook his head and looked away.

 

“Don’t do that.  Okay?  Nothing that happened was your fault.  And the boys are fine, so let’s just focus on that for now, deal?”  Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes as she nodded, moving into the room and placing a kiss on top of his head.  Dean closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, a tear sliding down his own cheek.

 

“You are a good man, Dean Winchester.”

  
  


~*~ One Month Later ~*~

  
  


Dean was ecstatic to be taking his babies home.  They had grown so freaking much, and were so freaking strong he couldn’t help but puff his chest in pride anytime someone complimented them.  Though, he was also willing to admit that probably had something to do with how small they were when they arrived.

 

He rarely left the hospital while the babies were there and so Bobby, Jo, and Benny had set up everything he would need for them in the living room.  The couch and entertainment center were moved and it was basically a giant nursery in there.  He didn’t really give a shit how it looked.  He just wanted everything set up so that his boys would get the best care possible.

 

Bobby had picked them up in one of his vans, the Impala definitely wouldn’t be fitting three car seats.  And he was loath to admit he might have liked the damned thing.  But never out loud.

 

Dean closed the door with his foot and carried the last carseat into the house.  He smiled at Jo, who hadn’t been able to put little Robby down yet.  He set John’s carseat down and proceeded to carefully extract the baby from the harness he was wrapped in.  Suddenly he realized the benefit of that old  _ Operation  _ game.

 

Dean looked over at Benny, who was on the couch with little Samuel and winked.  “Don’t you spoil that baby, Jo.”  The blonde turned to him and stuck her tongue out, bouncing the little blue bundle gently.

 

“It is impossible to spoil a baby, Dean.  One would think with all those baby book to tried to hide you’d have learned that.”  Benny chuckled from the couch, giggling the baby on his chest.  Dean rolled his eyes and lifted Robby from the seat.  The baby never even stirred from his sleep.  He rocked his son gently as he slowly made his way across the livingroom to the other couch.

 

“Look who wants their daddy,” he cooed, tucking the little blue receiving blanket a little tighter around the baby.  Sam hummed sleepily and reached up to take the baby from his husband.  He hadn’t been able to hold them much in the past month.  The recovery from his difficult labor on top of carrying triplets had been long and rough.

 

Dean smiled at the sight of his son in his lovers arms and looked around the room at his life.  Bobby was in the kitchen with Ellen, stirring something on the stove and tempting fate by harping on the woman about burning bread.  His two best friends holding two of his beautiful children.  And his husband, home safe, on the couch.

 

He cleared his throat and blinked away tears that threatened to make an appearance.  He’d cried enough in these past weeks and he just wanted to be happy for now.  Happy tears counted as far as he was concerned.

 

Dean settled himself on the couch next to Sam and smiled when Sam leaned into his shoulder.  He leaned over and kissed his husband’s forehead, the long brown hair tickling his nose.

 

“You sleepy, babe?”  Sam just sighed and nodded a bit, snuggling deeper into Dean and the couch.

 

“Go ahead and sleep.  I’ll take him from you when you get there.  Someone is bound to want to hold him by then anyway.”  Sam smiled and turned his head slightly to kiss Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Love you.”

 

~*~

 

Raising triplets was about as easy as they thought it was going to be.  Having so many friends and family was an amazing blessing Sam and Dean never forgot.  Bobby promoted Dean to paperwork, so he could at least work from home.  They’d been given one of those baby sling things and he was able to wear at least one kid while working.

 

Sam’s recovery was slow, but complete.  They were both thankful, again, for no lasting effects of his ordeal.  Bobby and Ellen were basically grandparents and cooked for the boys a couple times a week each.  Garth and Jo loved babysitting and Sam and Dean were graciously allowed a night every couple of weeks to themselves.

 

It helped that the triplets were on formula.  Sam never made that much milk and his blood loss and surgery kept him from giving even that.  Every now and then he would watch someone make formula and have an episode, but could be coaxed out of it easily enough most of the time.

 

The babies grew like freaking weeds!  After a few months they looked like normal healthy babies.  Cause, you know, they were.

 

~*~

 

“Dean!  Please tell me you didn’t forget the buns!” Sam yelled out the open front door from the kitchen.  Dean stood in the front yard rolling his eyes.  Garth smiled and slapped a hand down on his shoulder.

 

“Don’t worry, buddy.  I got this.”  Dean nodded his thanks as his coworker went inside to let Sam know everything they needed was already outside.  They returned to the front yard together, Garth trying to get Sam to laugh at something that was no doubt stupid.

 

“Hey, babe.  Come sit, relax for a bit.”  Sam rolled his eyes but leaned in and kissed his husband.

 

“There’s still stuff to do, I can relax later.”  Dean smiled fondly and shook his head.

 

“Sam, there are plenty of people here who are looking for ways to help.  We have everything under control.  Why don’t you go over there and see how Ellen is doing with Robby?  I swear that kid is going to take his first step before the day is over.  That got him moving.  Sam’s head jerked over to the edge of the yard where Ellen and Mrs. Tran were trying to get Robby to walk between them.

 

Colt circled the trio nervously, but never got in the way.  He’d been so patient with the babies it was endearing.  Sam often joked that he was a big brother so it was his job.  Dean would roll his eyes and say he’s a freaking dog and he’s watching the packs pups.  Sam argued that it was the same difference.

 

Shotty was a little less enthusiastic about the boys, but tolerated them when they were asleep.  She’s curl up next to them if they were laid out on the bed for a nap.  Dean kinda liked how it was a dose of her own medicine.  Coming into his house and being all new and cute.  Served her right.

 

He finished setting out paper plates and napkins and placed his fists on his hips to survey the area.  The grille was going, burgers and chicken about to go on.  The table was set with everyone’s contribution for snacks and sides.  There were groups of friends around each baby, chatting excitedly and vying for their attention.

 

Dean caught Sam’s eye over some head’s of people talking amongst themselves and smiled with a wink.  Sam grinned mischievously back and rubbed his lower belly, winking back.  Dean isn’t quite sure what happened but he must have panicked.  Sam shot up from his crouch on the ground and rushed across the yard.

 

“No, no.  I was just kidding,” he laughed as he took Dean’s face in his hands and peppered kisses all over husband’s face.  “No more babies, okay?  Not yet.”  A wave of vertigo washed over him and Dean closed his eyes and placed his hands on Sam’s hips.

 

“Okay, sorry.  I just don’t know if I can do that again.”  Sam stopped smiling and kissed Dean’s lips.

 

“I know, it was terrible.  I shouldn’t have done that.  But I’m not pregnant, and we won't get that way unless we both want it, okay?”  Dean nodded and leaned into Sam’s arms.  They stood in the middle of the yard and held each other, watching their family and smiling at their fortune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I scare you? Did I? I couldn't do that to lovesammy! I hope you liked it. This is it for this story. Unless someone has an idea for a timestamp or short (lol) sequel.


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